


take my lungs if you need to breathe, take my heart if you need a beat

by Jay Auris (nighthawkms)



Category: Saturday Night Live, Weekend Update (SNL)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Clubbing, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mutual Pining, Obligatory John Mulaney, Recreational Drug Use, Romantic Comedy, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighthawkms/pseuds/Jay%20Auris
Summary: Seth Meyers thought he was happy with his life, but Stefon seems determined to make him question everything.ORLife in the gaps between the first and final regular appearances of Stefon.
Relationships: Seth Meyers/Stefon
Comments: 28
Kudos: 211





	take my lungs if you need to breathe, take my heart if you need a beat

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic on May 22, 2013. So literally 4 days after the final regular Stefon episode. It has been sitting on my hard drive since then, and 7 years seems like long enough to let this go. It has haunted me as the fic that was never published, and like a lot of things started in my 20s, it's time to finish it.
> 
> Title of the fic comes from [TV Dream by Larkins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfD3T3762UI) Which is the most Sethon as fuck song I've ever heard.

The corner of 5th and Lexington gets insanely busy around noon, as all the denizens of lower Manhattan rush out of every sky scraper and stuff themselves into itty bitty coffee shops for lunch.

Seth has been working downtown long enough to know that it's usually best to avoid this area, but he still has a few dollars on the Starbucks gift card that Jason got him for his birthday, and there's one a little way from the Rainbow Room that he can hit up before he goes back to work. They're on crunch time; it's Friday afternoon and Reese Witherspoon had to cancel because of a family emergency, so they've been scrambling for the last day to find a replacement. Seth can grab his coffee, swallow it all down before he gets back, and maybe he’ll have enough energy to call Gwenyth Paltrow and beg her to be the replacement. Lorne would usually do this, but Lorne's kind of pissed at him for knocking over the Chiquita Banana set piece they'd been working on for three days straight. So now it's _his_ job.

He gets a grande with two shots of half-and-half and squeezes his way out the door, prying himself through the flocks of commuters, dodging one guy with his eyes glued to the screen of his digital camera and cursing tourists under his breath. The crossing light on 5th counts down _15, 14, 13..._ and he speeds up, ducking and weaving in hopes that he can cross before the light turns.

He slips past a teenage girl on a scooter, and someone slams into him, spilling hot coffee all over his hand as the cup crashes to the ground.

"Shit!" Seth curses, waving his hand back and forth to try and get the hot coffee off. "Could you watch where you're going?!"

He looks up and freezes, finds himself staring at a man a good five inches taller than him, with slicked down bangs covering half his face. He’s wearing a godawful looking green Ed Hardy shirt; For New York it's perfectly normal attire, though the club scene kids usually stay away from Midtown at this hour.

Seth isn't sure why he's stopped telling this guy off for being an oblivious asshole. Maybe it's the bright, curious look the man is giving him, owlish eyes darkened by eyeliner. Or maybe Seth has realized that yelling at a large stranger isn't the best idea.

Seth isn't sure how to continue, but luckily the other man steps in.

"Well isn't it lucky that I stopped you from wasting your life with that overpriced, watery brew?" The man speaks with a soft, lilting voice, raspy in a way that seems to match his appearance perfectly; Seth wonders what came first, the Ed Hardy or the lisp? The man continues: "Really, it's better this way."

"Huh?" Seth is thrown off; he wasn't expecting to be insulted for his coffee choices, of all things. "Hey, that's not-"

"Ooooh! Your poor hand!"

The other man is suddenly clasping his wrist, cooing over Seth’s coffee-burned hand that is now reddened and a little stiff. The man’s grip is gentle but firm. Seth is again thrown off by the contrast.

"You should get an ice pack for this-" The man snaps his fingers, eyes brightening. "I've got it! We can get you good coffee and fix you up at the same time- Stefon knows a good spot, Mister.” The man starts pulling Seth down the street.

"Who's Stefon?" Seth asks, wondering if he's about to be mugged slash molested slash murdered in an alley somewhere. Maybe a nasty combination of the three.

The man grins at him, the kind of pure, sweet smile that can’t be faked. "I am, of course! Stefon Zolesky, your guardian angel. And what's your name, honey?"

The man named Stefon has an unbreakable grasp on his wrist. Seth reddens and stutters at the brazenness of the pet name.

"I'm, uh, I'm Seth Meyers."

"Mmmm, cute name for a cute man," Stefon practically purrs. "Don't worry, I know this great little spot two blocks from here- it's in the back alley behind the animal shelter. The bouncer's a retired sumo wrestler named Heath Bars Ledger - don't mention his cousin, it's a touchy subject."

"There's a bouncer at a coffee shop?"

"Uh, why wouldn't there be, Seth Meyers? The best places in New York need to keep the rabble out. Luckily, I'm your golden ticket inside." Stefon winks at Seth, showing his pearly whites in a dazzling grin.

Seth realizes the oddity of this situation; he's being pulled down the street towards some alleyway by a random stranger who just spilled his coffee and then insulted him for it, but for some reason he's not worried. Seth’s not getting any sort of creepy serial killer vibe from Stefon, and his hand is really starting to hurt, so an ice pack sounds like a fantastic idea right now.

They turn down 7th and slip between two buildings. On any normal day, Seth wouldn't have even realized this alley existed, but it's like Stefon pulled a trick out of Harry Potter; showing Seth’s Muggle self a wizard hiding spot.

There's a doorway guarded by a hulking older Asian gentleman. He’s sitting on a chair and playing a round of Go against a classroom model skeleton wearing a feather boa that’s propped up in a chair next to the board. The skeleton is winning.

" _Konichiwa_ , Heath Bars. How's tricks?" Stefon asks him.

"Lots of customers, Stefon-san," Heath Bars replies. He motions towards Seth with hands the size of concrete blocks; Seth immediately understands why he got the bouncer job. "Who's this?"

"My new friend, Seth Meyers. He's cool, kay? Like, not cool, obviously, but _cool_." Something about Stefon’s inflection tells Seth there’s an entire other language being spoken that Seth has no context for.

The gentleman nods and knocks in a pattern on the door to his left. It opens to a dimly lit hallway.

As Stefon pulls him inside, Seth has a fleeting thought of panic. Maybe this guy is tricking him after all. Maybe he’ll get knocked out as soon as he steps inside the building, and wake up inside a box on a tanker ship, wearing high heels and a corset, headed for a life of forced prostitution. Weirder things have happened in New York.

But then Stefon draws aside a beaded curtain, and they step into a warmly lit room that smells of ground beans and patchouli. There’s cherry red wood paneling covering the walls, and a black tiled floor that looks clean enough to eat off of. To the left, there's a gorgeous mahogany counter, with four large coffee steins along the back wall. A woman with a shaved head mans the register, and small round tables with leather-backed chairs are scattered about the floor.

"Huh. It really is a coffee shop," Seth says.

"Of course it is. Didn't Stefon promise you? _Janet_!" Stefon calls to the woman behind the counter. "Can you get my friend an ice pack and a small Belgian delight with extra cream? I'll have a vanilla latte."

Stefon ushers Seth into a seat, waving to a couple of little people sitting at a table in the corner.

"Are you both going to be at _Snuff_ tonight?" Stefon asks them. They reply affirmatively. "Good, see you in the Baby Bottle Hot Cop room!"

"I understood none of that," Seth mutters, wincing as he tries to curl his fingers. This is going to be so great for when he's pretending to shuffle important papers around the Update desk tomorrow night. Maybe they can work it into a bit; he’ll talk to Mulaney when he gets back.

Stefon smiles at Seth and nods to Janet as she places their drinks down on the table. "Of course not. Here, let me see your hand," he says, taking the towel-wrapped ice pack from Janet.

"Um, I think I can handle this?" Seth says.

"Nonsense." Stefon reaches across the table and gently grasps Seth’s hand again, pressing the ice pack against it.

Seth lets out a tense breath he didn't know he was holding in; the cold feels _so good_ and he can already feel his hand loosening up.

"I told you I would fix you up,” Stefon chides. “So that's what I’m going to do."

Seth looks down at the open-top coffee cup sitting in front of him. "What did you order me?"

"Something to wean you off that mega-chain scam. It's weak enough for people like _you_."

People like Seth? The fuck does that even mean? Maybe he really is a wizard, Seth thinks.

Stefon motions to the cup."You can drink it now. It _always_ comes out at the perfect temperature, but if you wait too long, the Belgian delight turns Bulgarian, and _ooooooh_ you do not want a Bulgarian delight. That’s something you only drink after three am and a good stretch."

Seth picks up the cup with his good hand, takes one hesitant look at Stefon, who rolls his eyes and keeps motioning. Finally, sending up a quick prayer, Seth takes a sip.

There's a tidal wave on Seth’s tongue- cinnamon, peppermint, vanilla. He feels heady, giddy and off-balance. He can taste colors, see sounds, _hear_ flavors-

Seth opens his eyes - when had he closed them? - returning to reality.

"Wow," he breathes in, and new flavors assault his taste buds as the very air itself tastes alive. "Wow that's good!"

There are fireworks twinkling at the edges of his sight. Stefon has his hands steepled over his mouth, eyes wide but crinkling; Seth can see a smile peeking through his fingers.

"What's in this stuff?” Seth asks. “Are there drugs? Am I going to have a trip? I'm pretty sure I can't work on acid. This isn't the 70s. Also I’ve never tried acid and I think my boss would be pissed if I chose today to be the day."

Stefon giggles. "No, none in that brew. It's just real coffee, the way coffee is supposed to be made." He sips his own drink and drums his fingers on the table. "How's your hand?"

"Oh." Seth can't even feel pain after that first sip. He lifts the ice pack off his hand and tries to make a fist; his fingers curl easily and the redness has faded away. "It’s better, huh. How about that."

He takes a second sip of the coffee, feels the same reality bending sensations, but this time he’s prepared and doesn't react like he's just had a divine intervention.

"How did you find this place?" Seth asks.

"Stefon just knows these things," Stefon says, winking. "Also, Heath Bars Ledger invited me here after we did Mello Yello Jello shots off a flautist's stomach at _Egads!_ last month."

Seth almost chokes on the coffee, and as it aerates down his throat, he tastes new flavors. Huh, is that supposed to happen?

"Sorry, you did what?” Seth asks, wiping his mouth. “On _who_? And where?"

Stefon lists off his fingers. "Mello Yello Jello shots. Flautist's stomach. At _Egads!_ \- it's a club in NoBroSoHo."

Seth frowns. "So I haven't gone deaf."

Stefon covers his mouth with his hands again.

"What?” Seth asks. “What did I say?"

Stefon giggles, steepling his fingertips below his chin. "You're such a starched shirt. It's adorable! Next you're going to tell me you've never heard of-" And he makes a shrieking sound with his throat that sounds like a bird dying and orgasming at the same time.

"...No, definitely have no idea what that is."

Stefon tsks at him and sips his coffee. "I'm disappointed. I thought Seth Meyers would know at least a little bit about the city he makes fun of on Saturday nights."

"What- oh!" Seth realizes what Stefon has said, and grins. "Hey, so you do know who I am!"

"I told you. Stefon knows _everybody_ , and some people are lucky enough to know him. And now that includes you." He pats Seth's arm and places the ice pack back on Seth's hand. "Leave this on a little longer, okay?"

Seth smiles; his initial nervousness has given way to calm. Stefon's a little weird, sure, but he seems like a genuinely nice person. That's sometimes hard to come by in this city.

Stefon starts telling Seth about the club he's going to tonight. "It has everything - baby seals, Navy SEALS, navy heels, that sweaty guy who always sits right next to you on the subway... and if you stay until two am, you get to take E with a dozen Human Pencil Sharpeners."

"Human Pencil Sharpeners?"

"It's that thing where a guy bites down on a new pencil and you spin him around until he pops off and spits the shavings in your face." Stefon is grinning behind his hands like he's told a hilarious joke, but Seth actually believes him, and he's finding this all _delightful_.

"There are places like this that exist?" Seth asks. "Are you sure you haven't just been tripping all the time?" It wouldn't be surprising for a guy who chooses to wear outfits like that out in broad daylight.

Stefon scoffs. "Of course they're real. I know exactly what combination of uppers and downers I need to hallucinate, and I only take them after the human pencil sharpeners start their performance. Honestly, it's like people don't understand where they can go to have fun in this city. They should just ask me."

A light bulb goes off in Seth's head.

Oh. Oh, there’s an opportunity here. He's about to kill two birds with one stone.

"Hey, Stefon, are you busy tomorrow night?"

Stefon's face lights up. "I didn't have any plans I can't change. Do you want to come with me to a club? I heard about this place called _Swish_ that's opening up, my friend CinnaBon Jovi told me about it-"

Seth holds up a hand, shaking his head. "No, actually... I was wondering if you'd like to have a chance to tell everyone about all these places you go. We're running a little short on the show this week and we could find you a few minutes at the Weekend Update desk to speak. What do you say?"

Stefon does that thing with hands-over-his-mouth again, but this time he looks shocked. "You mean you want me to come on your TV show?"

"Only if you want to. I'll be right there to walk you through everything, and if you're too nervous to talk to the camera you can talk directly to me." Seth doesn't know why he's being so forthcoming. Maybe he's just desperate for someone to fill a few minutes, but he likes Stefon and something tells him that this is going to be a great idea. "I'm on a deadline so I can't give you too much time to think about it-"

"I'd love to!" Stefon grasps his shoulders and grins happily.

Seth feels his heart skip a beat or two; that smile is dazzling.

"When do we start?" Stefon asks.

"Right now." Seth stands up and takes a drink. "Let me pay for this and-"

"Don't worry about it, it's on my tab." Stefon waves to Janet and wraps an arm around Seth's elbow, pulling him towards the door eagerly. "Come on, Seth Meyers, let's put me on TV!"

~

Seth’s fellows in the writer's room are a little uneasy when he introduces Stefon to them. They start asking about material to write for the guy, and Seth stops their questions with a hand wave.

"Let him explain; Stefon, do you mind telling these guys about that club you mentioned at the coffee shop?"

By the time Stefon finishes, the entire writer's room looks like they're trying not to collapse into fits of laughter on the floor, and Lorne, who came in during the middle of the speech, is asking Seth how much money he promised this guy, "because whatever it is, it was worth it for a performance like that."

After Lorne leaves, Seth feels a hand slinking down his arm. Stefon is gazing after Lorne curiously. "I swear I've seen that man at _Boooosh-_ he was in a cherry-red kimono getting his nipples slapped by a lovely Puerto Rican woman."

"Please never ask him about it," Seth pleads. "In fact, please never tell me if you see any of my coworkers at one of your clubs."

"Awww, party pooper."

Stefon wants to see his dressing room, so they take the elevator down to the production floor, running into Mulaney and Andy on their way. Seth introduces Stefon, who for some reason seems tense, and keeps a tight grip on Seth’s wrist the whole time.

"Are you related to anyone on the cast?" Mulaney asks. "Any cousins?"

"Oh, none of my cousins have ever been _here_ ," Stefon says with some disdain in his voice. "Maybe I've seen you somewhere _I've_ been."

"Sorry, thought you looked like- anyway, good luck." Mulaney gives Seth a confused look as he passes, and Seth shrugs at him.

"Why'd you do that?" Seth asks when they're gone.

"Do what?"

"You got all defensive. You're holding onto my arm for dear life. Why are you holding onto my arm anyway?" Seth realizes he doesn't even notice when Stefon gets up in his personal space. The man could drape himself all over Seth and-

And that's not a train of thought Seth is comfortable following. Nope, nope, nope.

"No reason," Stefon says, releasing his arm. "Well, you've already banned me from mentioning things about your cast mates. So nothing I can tell you."

"I think telling me that you can’t tell me is worse because now I'll be wondering about it all day." Seth sighs. "Come on, you can hang in my dressing room before the show."

Stefon explores his dressing room like it's a set piece from an Indiana Jones movie. Seth collapses on the couch in the corner and looks over some scripts, scribbling down notes as he keeps an eye on his new friend.

"So how should I introduce you when you come on?" Seth asks.

Stefon pauses from where he's examining a photo of the 06-07 cast, then turns and spreads his hands.

"Oh there's no need," he says, voice deepening to a low timbre, "I need no introduction."

"How about 'city correspondent?'" Seth asks, smirking into the script he's looking over. "Is that too plain?"

"No, no that's perfect!" Stefon grins at himself in the mirror. "Stefon Zolesky, you sure are moving up in the world, city correspondent to a big ol' news organization."

"You realize we're a sketch comedy show, right? The Daily Show has more journalistic integrity than we d _o. Damn you,_ Stewart," Seth mutters under his breath. Stupid Emmys.

Stefon waves him off. "Let me have this," he says. "Mrs. Stefon has been asking about my employment for ages. I'll finally have something to tell her!"

Seth feels his stomach flip-flop. "Mrs. Stefon? You're... married?" _To a woman?_

Stefon stares at him for a moment, then drops his head back and laughs. "Oh of course not, Mrs. Stefon is my mother's name."

"Oh- ok then." He’s definitely not relieved or anything. Hahaha. Ha.

Somehow, they convince Gabourey Sidibe to cover for Reese Witherspoon, and Stefon's first appearance receives rave reviews from the audience and the press. Stefon knocks on Seth’s door on Sunday morning and practically assaults him, picking him up and twirling him around happily while a copy of _The New York Times_ dangles from his hand.

"That was so much fun, Seth Meyers! When can we do it again?" Stefon asks.

"Um, soon I guess?” He feels a little self-conscious that he answered the door in only boxers and a T-shirt, but Stefon was going to wake up his neighbors if he didn’t hurry, and Seth doesn’t need questions about why a slick-haired club kid is banging on his door at ten-thirty in the morning on a Sunday. “How did you know where I live anyway?" Seth asks after being put down.

Stefon bops Seth’s nose and winks at him. "Stefon just knows these things."

Seth's starting to believe him.

~

They invite Stefon back for the season finale, and it’s another ratings smash. The people love this weird, twitchy guy, and Lorne lets Seth know that he’d better keep in Stefon’s good graces so he’ll be willing to do more pieces next season.

During the summer, Seth gets a call from Stefon at least once a week, asking Seth to join him at whatever new club he's happened to stumble across. Or - in the case of that one place _Daaaaayum!_ \- fell into through a trap door in an abandoned building.

Seth always turns Stefon down. He's been proven over the years to have no love or talent for the club scene. There are named incidents in his mind, including _The Time We Do Not Speak About In College_ , _The Time We Do Not Speak About After MY First SNL Show_ , and _The Valentine's Day Massacre_ , named for the massacre of his relationship over the course of the three hours that he and his (ex- after that night) girlfriend spent there.

But every time Seth invites Stefon over to play video games, or catch a movie downtown, or spend a day in Central Park, Stefon accepts immediately. Honestly, Seth would feel bad about always deciding how they hung out if Stefon even seemed to care, but he never seems to. Sometimes, Stefon will bring a friend from the club scene to join them - when they went to see a screening of _MacGruber_ with Will, Mulaney, and Kristen, Stefon brought a guy with him who said he was a Will Forte impersonator, and they spent an hour trying to coax the real Will out of a bathroom stall after he started shrieking about “soul stealing warlocks” and “sacrifices to the dark lord Ba'shock.” The story of how they got him to come out was the surprising catalyst for Stefon dropping his disdain for Mulaney; it involved a rubber chicken, an over-sized pair of chopsticks and an old Xbox controller.

Usually though, it will just be the two of them, spending late nights eating takeout and watching Netflix, or sitting out on the stoop of Seth's brownstone while Stefon judges the fashion sense of passerbys like their own private version of _What Not to Wear_.

Stefon isn't the type of person Seth ever expected to enjoy spending time with. But for all his kooky weirdness, and probably-illegal-in-thirty-states sexual fetishes, and definitely-illegal-in-every-state drug habits, the man has an infectious joy about him, a wicked sense of humor. He seems to take delight in finding ways to leave Seth rolling in his seat, crying with laughter. Maybe Seth isn’t the kind of person Stefon ever expected to enjoy spending time with either, but they’re a surprisingly good pair. Of friends.

By the time August rolls around and Seth meets Becky at the local co-op and she invites him to dinner, he realizes that he's got Stefon scheduled for the next 5 days straight, and they should probably cool it a little, whatever _it_ is.

"But _Seeeeth Meeeyers_ ," Stefon whines over the phone when Seth calls him to cancel on their outing to see _Scott Pilgrim_. "You promised to dye your hair and dress up to be the Scott to my Ramona! I have the perfect set of over-sized goggles..."

"I never agreed to that. I’m pretty sure if I said that, it was a figment of your last high.” Fuck Seth hates disappointing Stefon, but should he really feel _this_ guilty about canceling on a friend? He forges ahead anyway. “I'm sorry Stefon, can't we reschedule? I like this woman and I haven't really been on a date in a while."

Now that he thinks about it, after Carol broke up with him last January, he hasn't even flirted with many women. He can count the number on half a hand. Between work and Stefon, he's had no time. That’s concerning, isn’t it?

Seth hears Stefon sigh dramatically over the phone. "It's always _women_ with you."

"What are you talking about? I haven't dated anyone since I met you."

"You have all your female _friends_ " -he can practically hear Stefon making air quotes- "from _work_."

"Who I have _no desire to date_ ," Seth grumbles, getting annoyed. "And who I know you like- don't pretend you and Kristen weren't doing shots together at Jason's house party last month. I mean, I've spent more time with you this summer than women I usually date!"

"Alright, Seth Meyers, I get your point. I'll see you at Black George Washington's art showing tomorrow, if you even want to still hang out with me." Seth hears a click.

Seth puts down the phone, suddenly very confused. Stefon's never acted like this before. To be fair, Seth thinks, he hasn’t had a girlfriend since they met, but that's not really relevant. It's not like Stefon has got anything to do with Seth’s love life-

Oh. Oh no.

Stefon likes him.

Like, _likes him_ likes him.

Seth's been hanging out with this guy for four months, and Stefon's been hitting on him since literally the third sentence he said to Seth, but for some reason Seth thought it was just Stefon being playful. Friendly.

Stefon flirts with _everyone_ , no matter the gender, shape, size, age. But Seth's never heard him mention a boyfriend, and when Seth asks him about the people he hooks up with at clubs - and he _knows_ Stefon hooks up, he's been forced to listen to more stories about his friend's bedroom antics than should ever be possible, given the number of hours in a day and years Stefon has been alive - Stefon always says the same thing.

"They were nice, but I'm not interested in dating _them_."

Seth realizes now that the _them_ part was always said with a pointed look in his direction.

" _Fuck me_ ," Seth says aloud, then cringes- there's no one to hear him but that was definitely the wrong way to end that thought.

This revelation is a little unsettling. Seth has other gay friends - as well as suspected gay; Jason has way too many back issues of _Men's Health_ magazine in his dressing room - but none that have ever seemed interested in him.

He wonders if this means they should stop hanging out. Seth doesn't want to lead him on, and he's not really comfortable with the knowledge that the guy who bunks on his couch after late night marathons of _Project Runway_ really would prefer to bunk in Seth's bed.

And do other things that Shall Not Be Named.

But then Seth thinks about not hanging out with Stefon anymore and it makes his chest hurt, makes it tighten up like a vice. He really likes Stefon- as a friend- and he hasn't had a nice platonic relationship like this in a while.

Besides, it's not like Stefon's been throwing himself at Seth. There's general touching and hugging and flirting, but Stefon's never made him feel uncomfortable or harassed- in fact, it's quite the opposite. Seth always feels comfortable when Stefon is nearby; like somebody has his best interest at heart, even if the way he shows it is a little... funky.

So, Seth will just make it clear next time he sees Stefon that he's not interested in a romantic relationship, and that will be that.

But when Seth sees Stefon outside the art gallery the next afternoon, the other man actually looks _depressed_ , an emotion Seth wasn't sure Stefon was capable of having. The words Seth was going to say get caught in his throat.

"Hi," Stefon says meekly. "Um, I wanted to apologize. I was kind of being a jerk yesterday. If you want to spend some time... _dating women_ , I understand."

It looks like the words are painful for Stefon just to get out. Seth can't help but immediately forgive him.

"It's fine." Seth drops a hand to Stefon's shoulder and smiles up at him. "Don't ever think I won't have time to spend with you, ok? You're a really good friend and I like being around you."

Stefon perks up visibly, his smile returning to the bright, dazzling thing it usually is. Seth feels relieved at the complete one-eighty in his mood; he much prefers a happy Stefon to a sulking one.

"I finally found out what Black George Washington's exhibition is about!” Stefon babbles excitedly. “It's a display of dog turds in the shape of 1980s John Hughes movie characters. The amazing thing is, he barely does anything to them- he just finds them that way."

"Oooookay then? I'm about to spend an hour looking at poop."

" _Artistic_ poop."

"Whatever you want to call it," Seth says, smiling and following Stefon inside.

At some point in the future, they'll discuss Stefon's crush. Just not today.

~

The year gets off to a great start. Seth gets a raise, they finally manage to control their raccoon problem in the set closet, and they welcome a few new cast members. Seth wonders if it's possible to meet a person who likes affectionate touching more than Stefon until he meets Taran, and Vanessa almost makes him choke on his ramen one day on set from a wickedly funny remark.

Stefon comes back in October, and by that time Seth's already broken it off with Becky, so instead of heading home after the show they end up sitting around backstage until four in the morning, shooting the breeze with the other cast members.

The new guys love Stefon. Jay actually pulls Seth aside later on behalf of the group of newbies to ask if they're dating, "-cause there's nothing wrong with that, man, it's just that Paul's gaydar was going off like crazy there."

Seth gets that flippy-floppy feeling in his stomach again like the floor's dropped out beneath him. "No, no, I'm straight. He's just really affectionate."

"Alright, I was just asking 'cause I think Taran has a cousin he thinks Stefon might like."

There's that annoying ache again. Seth ignores it. "Yeah, you should ask him."

Stefon doesn't mention Taran's cousin ever, and even if he is dating, he never talks about it. Seth thinks he knows why that is, but they never got around to talking. It's easier to just pretend and forget about Stefon's crush, even though Stefon is bunking at Seth's apartment at least twice a week, and he's got organic yogurt and tofu sitting in Seth's fridge.

There's nothing wrong with guys being friends in this way, Seth thinks to himself after he finds a pair of Stefon's briefs in his laundry basket. He stares at the underwear in his grip and then slowly, without shrieking, puts them back in the basket.

I defy your traditional friendship norms, society, Seth thinks. Amy would be so proud of him for that.

Even on weeks where Stefon isn't scheduled to appear, he usually shows up to the studio a few times to spend time with Seth. Eventually, Seth realizes that now Stefon is always there on Saturday nights, staying until two or three in the morning and crashing on Seth's couch "since your place is so much closer to the studio than mine" (Seth has never been to Stefon's place, but he's suspicious of that excuse anyway).

"Isn't all this cutting into your club time?" Seth asks Stefon one week after a particularity exhausting episode. He's got his head back against the couch in his dressing room. His feet are propped up on the coffee table and Stefon is massaging them, curled up in the makeup chair and hiding yawns as he works his hands over the soles.

Seth lets out an unintentional moan when Stefon works a certain spot. Stefon has the kindness to ignore this.

"I go out other nights of the week," Stefon replies matter-of-factly. "I still have plenty of new material to do on the show; don't worry."

"I didn't mean that. I just know you enjoy partying and I don't want you to feel like I expect you to be here for-"

Seth stops, and Stefon pauses his ministrations, looking at him. The rest of the sentence goes unacknowledged- _for me._

Seth clears his throat and looks away. He waits for Stefon to speak.

"If you want me to spend less time around you, you can say it."

"I- that's not what I meant. That's not what I _want_. You know that, right?"

"I think that sometimes Seth Meyers doesn't know what he wants."

Seth looks back to him. Stefon's let go of his foot, but he's stroking a hand over the bridge. It's both ticklish and- and _erotic_ at the same time. Seth swallows, _hard_ , suddenly feeling like a mouse in a trap. His mouth is dry, and his heart is beating a lot faster than it was a moment ago.

"I- I can't-" he starts. His brain fizzles in static, losing the ability to finish the thought, because that would be acknowledging this- this _thing._ That has no business even being a thing.

"It’s okay." Stefon shrugs and goes back to massaging Seth's foot. "Just relax. My aunt's a trained masseur, she taught me a few things."

He smiles at Seth, but it's tinged with a little sadness.

God, Seth feels like an ass.

~

They don't talk about that night. The next time it comes up is when Stefon gives him a peck on the cheek one night on national television, and it's not like Stefon’s never shown him that sort of affection before, it's just different when 5 million people are privy to your personal sexual identity crisis.

Seth grins to stop from dry-heaving, and when the segment ends he runs back to his dressing room, locking the door and staring at himself in the mirror.

He thinks about that one time at summer camp when he was 10 and Freddy Oberlin tried to kiss him on the mouth. He punched Freddy and ran out of the room, and the counselors had a talk with them about being nice to others. Freddy almost got kicked out, but Seth asked them not to, because Freddy was great at kickball, and they spent the rest of the summer dominating the camp team together.

There's a knock against the door.

Stefon calls out to him. "Seth Meyers? Are you ok? Did I freak you out? I'm sorry."

He sounds like he did that day outside the art gallery. Sad, meek, apologizing for just being himself. And fuck, Stefon should never apologize for that. Seth likes Stefon for who he is.

"No, no I'm fine! I- I just have a nosebleed and I didn't want to get blood on my suit!" Seth scrambles over to the makeup counter and dabs a tissue in red fruit punch, sticking it up his nose before he opens the door up. "That was a good segment, good job."

Stefon sniffs. "Why do you smell like corn syrup and aspartame?"

"No reason. I'm feeling a little under the weather, so I'm going to lay down. I'll talk to you later, ok?"

"Ok..." Stefon looks unsure, but squeezes his shoulder. "Feel better."

Seth closes the door and tugs the tissue out of his nose, coughing as he accidentally snorts some of the fruit punch up his nostrils. "God damn it," he mutters.

He feels like punching something. Or drinking something. Probably a bad idea to do the first thing after he starts the second thing.

He isn't old enough to have a mid-life crisis. He has no problem with people being gay, except he isn't one of those people. Men don't wake up one day at age 37 and start thinking about banging other dudes.

And even in a highly improbable universe in some sort of other dimension - definitely not this one - if he were to slightly, potentially, maybe have... _feelings_ for Stefon, it means nothing. Seth still likes women - in _this_ universe as well as the highly improbable one, of course.

Besides, he and Stefon would be completely incomparable as a couple. Stefon is- Stefon is dancing and rhythm and drugs and Ed Hardy shirts and one-night stands and... untameable. Seth is a nebbish funny guy in stained flannel shirts and sensible New Balance sneakers. They'd maybe sleep together once, and then Stefon would realize that he's too fleeting for a relationship. He'd slip out of Seth's grasp like water through his fist.

Seth feels trapped again, but this time it's different- it's like he's buried up to his head in the sand, watching the tide slowly roll in.

I'm going to be fine, Seth thinks. You’ll get over this. Someday you’ll look back and laugh about it together.

He forces himself to believe it, even as a voice screams in the back of his mind that being proven wrong is inevitable.

Just like the tide, Stefon will surely envelop him.

~

Maybe Stefon senses a discomfort, because he seems to back off. It both helps and hurts; Seth's feeling a little less overwhelmed, but when the yogurt in his fridge goes bad, he finds himself standing over the sink at two in the morning, an insomniac trying not to cry.

"Why would you pay $5.29 a pint for yogurt and then let it expire?" Seth whimpers, totally not wiping his eyes. "The least he could do is stop by to eat it, wasteful bastard."

Spring turns to summer. They find some sort of rhythm; it's like Stefon can sense when he needs to let Seth alone for a bit. It's almost surprising - almost - when Seth finds himself inviting Stefon on his summer vacation. His super serious girlfriend doesn't take kindly to the invite, and Seth finds himself single again when Stefon shows up as Seth is packing the car for the trip.

"She was a bitch," is the first thing Stefon says to him.

"No, she wasn't, but thanks for the support." Seth pops the trunk and looks around. "Where's your suitcase?"

Stefon throws the backpack he'd brought for the sketch into the trunk. "That's all I need."

"Really? I thought you'd be one to bring everything but the kitchen sink."

"I only pack what I need; living in a trash can means you get good at saving space."

"I still don't believe you about that," Seth says. He closes the trunk and they get in the car. "Someday you're going to let me see your place and I'm not going to run shrieking into the night from what I find, I promise."

"Mmmmm." Stefon drums his fingers noncommittally on the door. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, Seth Meyers. You’d be the first to pull it off."

How they're going to manage a two-week road trip without any awkward moments is unfathomable to Seth. Suddenly it's a good thing that his ex-girlfriend isn't with them, because they booked double beds in every hotel, so there's no awkward sharing to think about.

Also, maybe Seth should've realized his relationship was doomed to fail when his ex- requested the doubles in the first place.

When they finally get to New Hampshire on day four, Seth is a bundle of nerves.

"Mom asked me if you'll eat prime rib when she called before," he says, eyeing the GPS - it says they're an hour out. "She's planning to make it for dinner."

Stefon smiles brightly at him. "Of course! I love a big juicy piece of meat."

Seth almost crashes the car.

They arrive to not much fanfare- Seth's brother won't be showing up for another day, and his dad already had plans with his golf buddies when Seth decided to come up. So it's just Seth, Stefon and Seth’s mom. Dinner is pleasant; Stefon seems destined to charm every member of the Meyers household, and Seth’s mother is no exception.

Afterwards, she sends Stefon out to the back garden to pick strawberries for dessert while she and Seth do the dishes.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" she asks as they're wiping off the plates. "About you and him?"

"Mom... no, he's just-"

"I've seen how he looks at you, honey. He's head over heels for you. And you haven't had the greatest track record with women... well, ever. Maybe there's a reason for that."

"Mom!"

"I'm just saying." She pecks him on the cheek and takes the plate from his grip. "I want you to be happy, and it seems like something's troubling you. You shouldn't hide from something good just because you're afraid of what could happen."

"I know," Seth says. But he can't quite get himself to believe it.

~

When they get back from the trip, it's like last summer, except instead of _MacGruber_ there's _Bridesmaids_ , and instead of Chinese takeout, there's Thai.

One night Seth finds himself standing in his bedroom door at 2:30 in the morning, watching Stefon on the sofa. Stefon’s draped across the arms, softly snoring. The apartment is hot, and he's got his top thrown onto the coffee table and his jeans stripped into a pile at his feet.

Normally Seth doesn't see him like this, he's usually dressed by the time Seth gets up.

Seth wipes sweat off his brow as his eyes wander down the curves of Stefon's chest. He watches a bead of sweat glide down the length and disappear under the band of Stefon's briefs.

Seth realizes he is achingly hard.

He steps back into the bedroom and shuts the door, trying not make a noise, lowering himself into bed quietly.

Seth grasps himself under the sheets, trying to conjure a female form, one of his ex-girlfriends, _anyone_ but...

" _Stefon_ ," he moans softly.

Shit shit shit, he thinks. You can't do this, Seth! You'll just make it worse.

But he can't even lie to himself when he comes, can't pretend that he wasn't picturing his friend wrapped around him, pounding him into the mattress.

I'm screwed, he thinks. Well and truly screwed.

~

When the new season starts up, Seth has a plan.

He meets a woman named Dana on an online dating site - she's pretty and funny and everything Seth should want in a girlfriend. They go out on a few dates, and he's a perfect gentleman, and by date number four they're having perfectly good sex. Seth tells himself that he could fall in love with this woman.

Having a new relationship gives Seth an excuse to spend less time with Stefon. When the other man stops by the studio to say hi or offer to take Seth out to lunch, Seth forces himself to decline, pretending he's very busy and has no time for his friend.

By December, Stefon is only showing up for the segments he's scheduled for. Seth feels... well his stomach aches and there’s a lump in the back of his throat whenever he thinks about Stefon, so, probably relief. Besides, it's better this way. Seth can concentrate on his very serious relationship with Dana, and Stefon can lose the silly little crush he has on Seth. In a few months, they'll be able to go back to how they were before. Stefon will be able to hang out with him and his girlfriend without being jealous, and Seth will be able to hang out with Stefon without wanting to jump his-

Oh, that’s a bad train of thought. Let's not go there.

"How come Stefon doesn't hang around with you anymore?" Mulaney asks him one night after a show. "He was here all last year."

Seth shrugs. "He's probably busy, he's always been a party animal."

"It's weird. He seems less... _lively_ than he used to."

"I don't know what you mean," Seth says, relieved to exit the conversation when he feels his phone vibrating. "It's Dana, I have to take this."

He's in New Hampshire at Christmas when Stefon texts him; _Merry Xmas Seth Meyers, hope you're good, tell your folks I said hi_.

It's so lifeless and unlike Stefon's usual texts (lacking smiley faces and ASCII penis shapes) that Seth pauses for a moment, wondering if someone stole Stefon's phone. But no, why would a thief text him?

Seth sends a quick _you too_ , back, unable to think of something to say.

He gets another text about 3:30 in the morning on New Years. They're back in New York, and Dana is sleeping off the martinis she drank at Mulaney’s New Year’s Eve party. Seth is out on the balcony, sipping a scotch and looking out over the skyline. He feels a vibration in his pocket.

_Hapy new yaer Seth Meyers._

Seth frowns at the misspellings.

_Same to you. Are you drunk?_ he replies.

_Yah at khaaaaaaaaaaaan wit peopl wher r you._

If Seth didn't know Stefon he'd think the other man fell asleep pressing the A button, but he can believe there's a club named after a Star Trek character and Stefon is there.

_At home. You going to be ok?_

_yeah geting a ride hpme witg someon_

_Ok, be safe._

The next text comes several minutes later.

_i miss you_

Seth sucks in a breath, staring at the words. He knows what Stefon means by them.

But he can't- he can't admit-

No. There’s nothing to admit. He _doesn’t_ feel the same way. He's got a girlfriend and it's what he needs.

( _but_ _not what he wants)_

It's fine, he'll be fine.

_(lying to himself)_

_We've got a spot open in March if you want to come on the show_ , he texts back.

That's as much as Seth can force himself to admit. It’s an olive branch. A way to say, I miss you too, even if he’s not brave enough to send the exact words.

_kk_ is all Seth gets in return.

Seth pockets the phone, downs the last of the scotch, and goes to sleep on the couch.

Dana won't mind- just another reason she's perfect.

~

January and February are a fog when Seth looks back at them. He meets Dana's parents, the show takes up most of his time, and every week he sends a single text message to Stefon.

_How are you?_

He always gets the same response.

_Ok. You?_

Seth never responds. He can't, because the answer to that question would take up more than 160 characters. It takes up 3 years of suppressed desires, 6 months of forced separation and one truth that could end him: _I’m not okay without you around._

Seth tries to do more things with Dana, but she works too and can't be around all the time. Some nights he's alone, and he has to leave his phone in his car so he's not tempted to ask Stefon to come over, because it would start as eating takeout in the living room and end with him coming out in the bedroom.

When he jerks himself off, he's got Stefon's name on his lips ninety percent of the time.

He's hopeless. He can feel the tide lapping at his chin. Pretty soon he's going to drown.

The week before Stefon's sketch airs, he appears half a dozen times in the studio to go over his club descriptions with the writers. Seth avoids him, waving to him across a stage before fleeing the room, staying in his dressing room and praying the other man doesn't come knocking.

Seth asks Dana if she can come by and watch the show live. If he can introduce Stefon to her and they can get along, then maybe, god willing, Seth has a chance. That's what he'll do; he'll get both of them and Jason and Mulaney and Kristin and Bill and Bobby and Vanessa and Taran and everyone, everyone in a room together, and with that many people it should be easy. He'll say something nice to Stefon and then turn his attention to someone else, and ease back in to it.

This is a great plan. It's the best plan.

And then Stefon kisses him and everything goes to shit.

Seth is frozen at the desk. Half of him is mortified and the other half, the one that's grinning like a maniac, wants to do nothing more than push Stefon to the ground, studio audience be damned, and fuck him until there's an imprint in the floor that he can look at every time he sits behind this desk.

_Girlfriend, GIRLFRIEND!_ Seth’s mind screams as he pulls away.

"How long have you been holding onto that thing?" Seth asks as the audience laughs hysterically.

"All year," Stefon purrs, looking pleased with himself.

Seth just about dies on the spot.

He hurries off after the sketch, looking for Dana. She was supposed to be standing between the audience risers but she's missing. Seth has a feeling he knows where she is, and why she's there.

He steps into his dressing room to find her sitting in the makeup chair, smiling at him sadly.

"We need to talk," she says.

"Can't we just go home?" he pleads. "I can skip out early, they'll do fine without me."

"I'm not going home with you," she says, slowly getting out of the chair and speaking softly. As if she thinks he's going to bolt like a frightened animal. "I'm telling you that this is over before either of us get hurt more."

"No, I don't want-"

"You don't want this," she says. "Maybe you never did." She takes his hand, squeezing it gently. "I could see it up there tonight when you were talking to your friend; you lit up like he was the sun. You told me he was one of your best friends once and I've never even met him. Now I get it - you're in love with him."

"No- I- I'm not-"

"Stop it, honey. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn't rather have him here right now?"

Seth can't speak. He can barely breathe.

This isn’t happening.

She’s wrong. He’s not- he’s _not._

Right?

The answer to that isn’t as clear as it used to be.

When Seth continues to be silent, Dana sighs and says, "That's what I thought." She gathers up her purse and pecks him on the cheek. "I'll get my stuff from the apartment some other time; here's your key." She presses it gently into his hand. "I want to be happy, and I want you to be happy too. So stop fighting it and tell him how you feel."

She leaves. Seth stands there for a few minutes, breathing hard.

He should run after her, kiss her and hold her and tell her she's mistaken. She's seeing things; he loves _her_ , not Stefon, and he'll prove it. He can get a ring and a date at the courthouse and they'll have kids and live in a house with a white picket fence and they'll be perfectly normal, perfectly happy.

Everything will be _perfect_.

Except perfect doesn’t seem so perfect anymore.

"... Seth?"

Seth turns to see Stefon standing outside of the doorway, looking nervous and confused.

"I thought you said you wanted to introduce me to your girlfriend..." Stefon holds up a sleeved wine bottle. "You said she liked wine, so I brought a bottle. Are you ok?"

Seth should be asking Stefon that. Here's someone who loves Seth so much, who's missing him so badly, that he's forcing himself to play nice with the woman competing for Seth's affections, just so he can be near Seth. And all Seth has done lately is push him away.

I don't deserve this kind of love, Seth thinks. Not after how I’ve treated him.

Seth rubs his eyes with his, taking a shuddering breath. "I have to go."

He brushes past Stefon and hurries down the hall. He just has to get somewhere private so he can calm himself.

"Seth?!" Stefon calls after him, sounding hurt and confused and desperate all in one sound.

Seth runs.

~

Seth spends Sunday morning marathoning _The_ _Golden Girls_ and eating Lucky Charms like he's in his 20s again. He woke up in the morning, threw on a flannel shirt and didn't bother to shower; he's gone from bed to kitchen to couch and hasn't moved since. He almost cries every time he sees Betty White on screen- she was so nice when she hosted the show, telling rowdy jokes and offering to bake him cookies like the best grandmother ever.

When he hears a knock on the door, he looks at the time on his watch and realizes it's three in the afternoon. He wasn't planning on having visitors, but the building manager said he'd send over the super to fix his bathroom sink, and it's not like Seth can't keep watching TV while the guy works.

If he was in a state to think for a moment, he might have checked the peephole to see who was knocking. It's his own fault, really, for thinking that Stefon _wouldn't_ try to come after him after what happened the night before, but now Seth is staring up at the other man, who is sprinkled with raindrops, displaying a shocking lack of care about his perfectly coiffed hair.

Stefon puts a foot against the doorjamb before Seth can shut it. “Can we talk, Seth Meyers?”

"What do you want?" Seth asks tiredly, not even bothering to pretend to be ok. He moves back to the couch and sits down, pressing play on the remote and staring at the screen, not comprehending anything being said. He picks up the soggy bowl of cereal and starts eating so he won't have to talk.

Stefon shuts the door and moves quietly, delicately, slinking over to sit next to Seth. He's keeping a few inches between them. It's unnerving; Stefon should be all over him.

There's a few moments of quiet.

"I'm sorry about you and your girlfriend."

Seth chokes on the cereal. Stefon smacks his back while he's sputtering and coughing.

"How- how did you know about that?" Seth asks, putting down the bowl and chancing a look at the other man.

"Kenan met up with her on the elevator while she was leaving- you told him to bring her to the writer's room after the show, remember? She had to explain why she obviously wouldn't be there. He told me after that."

"Oh." Now he feels even more like an ass. Dana deserved a lot better than getting caught up in his messy, complicated feelings.

Stefon gives him a nervous smile and looks down at his lap. "She seemed... nice, from what everyone's said. I would have liked to meet her, if she made you happy."

Her words from last night echo in Seth's head. _I want you to be happy..._

"Just stop it," Seth says, clenching his fists into the cloth of the couch. "Stop trying to pretend, ok? You would have never liked her- you never like anyone I try to date."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is!" Seth slams the remote down on the coffee table and stands up, shaking with sudden anger. "You always try to not show how you feel but you can't hide it. I'm not stupid, Stefon! I know why you came over. You saw your opportunity and thought you would take it while I'm- I'm vulnerable and weak and can't resist-"

"No!"

The way Stefon yells stops Seth dead in his tracks. He sees the visible hurt on Stefon’s face as the man stands, covering his mouth with shaking hands, eyes wide and shining.

"How could you accuse me of that? I haven't been so insulted since Sir Dicks-A-Lot challenged my oral talents at _Fabio Shack_!"

That last sentence might've seemed humorous if Seth didn't know Stefon so well - Stefon hasn’t let that grudge go, even after winning the challenge and sending Sir Dicks-A-Lot slinking away.

"I came over because I care about you!” Stefon insists. “And if nothing else, I want to be your friend. But if Seth Meyers doesn't want to be friends with me, then- then I guess I won't bother him anymore."

Stefon steps towards the door.

Something snaps in Seth's mind, that final band of resistance breaking inside of him at the thought of losing the other man for good.

A moment later, he's got Stefon pinned against the door, kissing him like a drowning man breathing for air.

Stefon responds almost immediately, wrapping his arms tightly around Seth and dragging him upwards, returning the kiss with the same fervor.

But then something makes him stop. He pushes Seth back, breathing hard, pupils dilated and lips bitten cherry red. It's so fucking hot and Seth wants to drag him to the bedroom right now.

"Why'd you stop?" Seth gasps, trying to move in to kiss him again.

"We can't," Stefon says. "You're right- you're vulnerable and you wouldn't be doing this if you were thinking clearly-"

"This is the clearest my mind has been in _years_ ," Seth groans. "Are you shitting me? I've been suppressing my urges to fuck you since probably day one, and _now's_ the moment you decide to be Mr. Chivalry?"

"I'm not Mr. Chivalry, he works at the club on 80th and Park."

" _God_ , just-" Seth grips Stefon behind the head and brings their faces half an inch apart. "I was wrong, okay? I was an asshole because I couldn’t admit how badly I want you, and I’m sorry. But now I want you to take me into that bedroom and _ruin me_. Do you understand me, Stefon Zolesky?"

Stefon makes a noise like it's Christmas morning and he's just unwrapped an Ed Hardy wardrobe from Santa.

Seth finds himself picked up off the ground- Stefon's pretty damn strong, who knew?- and he wraps his legs around Stefon's waist, moaning unabashedly as he feels Stefon's dick against his thigh. Stefon stumbles towards the bedroom, kissing down Seth’s neck and licking a stripe across his collarbone. Seth buries his face into Stefon's shoulder and digs his fingers into Stefon's hair, rutting like a teenager.

They somehow make it to the bed. Stefon promptly drops Seth onto the mattress and start tearing at the buttons on Seth's flannel. "Do you have...?"

"Yeah, yeah, side table. Want to face you, okay?" Seth pants, tugging Stefon's top off and kissing a trail up his chest. Feeling a silky, fine layer of hair against his lips is new to Seth’s experience with a partner, but Seth thinks he’s handling this sudden gay epiphany pretty well, all things considered; he literally just asked Stefon to fuck him.

Stefon nods. "Of course, Stefon knows you need to see his dazzling features." He winks and Seth grins back, watching Stefon rummage through the dresser.

Seth slides back farther as Stefon pulls out condoms and lube, dropping them to the side for now. Stefon crawls up over Seth, kissing him into the pillows at the headboard. Seth gasps when he feels a hand rub up against the fabric over his dick.

Then Stefon's moving down, drawing Seth's boxers off, and _oh JesusChrist-_

Seth whimpers and grips a hand in Stefon's hair as the other man bobs up and down, tongue sliding over Seth's cock. God, Stefon's really, _really_ good at this. Seth shouldn't be surprised- isn't surprised really, but it's one thing to understand logically that your friend's good at sucking cock, and another thing entirely to have it done to you.

It's so good, that Seth feels like he's going to come any second.

"S-slow down," Seth gasps. “Too fast, Stefon.”

Stefon pulls off him for a moment.

"Don't worry," he says, smiling wickedly up at Seth. "I'll get you going again after the first one."

_ohjesusfuckfuckfuck,_ Seth thinks. He believes Stefon absolutely, one-hundred percent.

Closing his eyes, Seth concentrates purely on the sensation down below, wondering at how Stefon seems to know exactly what he wants before he can even vocalize it. He feels like crying the first time he comes, it's so utterly _wonderful_ and Stefon's hands wrap around his hips as they jerk up, holding him down as he empties himself.

Seth opens his eyes and looks down, watching Stefon swallow audibly and lick his lips, grinning like he just won a prize.

"You really took that ruin me thing to heart, didn't you?" Seth pulls him up and kisses him, tasting himself on Stefon's lips. This is so freaking fantastic, why didn't they do this sooner? He was such an idiot for putting this off- this is the best sex he's ever had and they haven't even got to the penetration part.

Speaking of which, it seems like Seth's dick is ready for round two in a matter of minutes. Stefon barely has to touch him to get him hard again- not that Stefon isn’t touching him, of course not.

"You're so responsive," Stefon coos as he runs his hands up and down Seth's sides, watching in fascination as Seth whimpers and twists under his touch. "I think I just won the lottery."

Seth laughs through a gasp, reaching up to cup Stefon's face. He says in all seriousness, "Please fuck me. I really would like you to do that as soon as possible."

Stefon tugs him down to lie flat against the bed. He looms over Seth, smiling down at him and speaking softly.

"You've never done this before, have you, Seth Meyers?" Seth shakes his head. "Ok. You're going to feel some pressure- just tell me if anything hurts and I'll stop."

Seth nods. Stefon reaches for the lube, squirting some onto his fingers and rubbing them together.

Seth fights the urge to watch Stefon’s hand sliding downwards. Even with all the bravado he’s been showing, when the moment of truth arrives, he can’t help but feel nervous. He’s never done this before; what if he hates it? What if he’s gotten Stefon all excited for nothing? What if he can’t relax enough, or Stefon’s too big, or-

"Get out of that big ol’ head of yours," Stefon says, kissing Seth’s forehead. "I’ll take care of you, promise. This city isn’t the only thing I’m an expert on anymore. You should start introducing me as ‘city and Seth Meyers correspondent’.”

“ _Stefon_ ,” Seth half moans, half laughs, reaching up for him. If Stefon was trying to get him to relax, then the sheer silliness he’s displaying is working.

Seth feels Stefon's hand move against him, and then there's a finger teasing its way inside of Seth- he takes a breath, unsure whether he likes the sensation. Stefon kisses him, working that finger around a bit before slowly adding a second, and then a third finger, pushing into him a little farther.

Seth definitely feels a little weird, he's not used to something going _in_ that way. But this isn’t really the time to think about that.

Then Stefon does something- moves his finger somehow- and Seth is coming up off the bed, gasping and watching spots in his vision as a spark of deep pleasure curls up his spine.

"Wh-what did you do?" Seth asks. Stefon giggles at Seth as he shakes Stefon’s shoulders. "Can you do that again? Holy shit, I want you to do that again."

Stefon giggles again; apparently Seth's being really funny even though he is so completely dead serious. "Patience, Seth Meyers. The best part is coming up."

Seth whines as Stefon pulls his fingers out, missing the sensation already. After tearing open of a condom packet, Seth watches in fascination as Stefon rolls the rubber over his (pretty generously sized) dick.

"I'll go slow,” Stefon says, pushing Seth's legs apart and lifting them to drape over his own shoulders. “Tell me if I need to stop."

Seth props himself up on his elbows, feeling like a gymnast with all this bending and stretching. “You haven’t even started, come on, Stefon, _please_.” God, his voice is so fucking wrecked already.

Stefon positions himself, winks at Seth, and starts pushing, and _pushing_ , and-

Seth hears himself squeak, freakin' _squeak_ , as Stefon pushes into him, working forward in little thrusts. By the time he’s buried to the root, Stefon's looks unwound, breathing rapidly and trying not to move.

"N-not usually on the giving end of things," Stefon pants. "Give me a m-minute."

"N-no problem," Seth gasps, coming undone just fine on his own. There's a little sting, but also this feeling of being utterly _filled_ , and it's overwhelming. His thoughts are racing at a trillion miles an hour and all he wants Stefon to do is _move_ -

And then Stefon does.

Seth feels his brain short out as Stefon starts thrusting. There's a spot he hits every time he thrusts that sends a spark of pure pleasure up Seth's spine. Seth can feel every inch of Stefon's cock, can feel every centimeter of skin they have in contact. The air feels like a blanket, heavy against his chest. Holding him down, keeping him grounded in a body unused to feeling this kind of satisfaction.

Stefon's hands are wrapped around his thighs, digging fingernail imprints into his flesh. Seth whines and tries to meet Stefon’s thrusts. He wants to be drawn apart, folded over, absorbed by this man. Anything to get deeper, closer, enveloped inside him, never separating, always joined just like this where he can't tell what part is Seth and what part is Stefon, and it doesn't matter which one is which.

They're not two halves but one whole. Seth he could die right now and never regret it, except he would miss out on more of this. This thing that fixes and shatters his soul in the same breath, and wouldn't that be a shame-

" _ohgodohgodyesssrightthere"_

\- a shame to miss out on what this could be and -

_"don'tstoppleasedon'teverstop"_

_-_ what he's terrified to want. Stefon watches him with wide eyes and his gaze is tearing Seth in half, ripping open his chest and nestling itself right into his beating heart-

_"pleaseStefonharderI'mgoingto-!"_

Seth cries out, arching off the bed as he comes, feeling the hot spurt of his release splatter across his chest.

There's a ringing in his ears and he realizes that he's been screaming, and Stefon's still thrusting, and then all of a sudden he's shouting Seth's name and jerking his hips rapidly. And then it stops.

Seth moans quietly as Stefon pulls out of him to dispose of the condom, missing the sensation of fullness already. But then Stefon slides up to wrap himself bodily around Seth, nuzzling his face into Seth's shoulder and grinning at him like a mischievous cat.

"You really like to be loud during sex. I’m going to catalog this for next time."

Seth pulls Stefon into a long, languorous kiss, sighing happily when they part. "That was amazing. You're amazing. Did I mention the amazing part?"

Stefon giggles and presses his face into Seth's shoulder, breathing in deeply. "So I guess you enjoyed this?"

" _Hell_ yes. In fact, despite biology working against me, I don't think it's going to take me long to be ready for another round. But first..."

Seth twists over and cups Stefon behind the head, kissing him deeply.

"I'm sorry I was such an ass. You're a fantastic friend and I almost lost you because I was too stupid to realize what I really wanted."

"You were forgiven the minute you kissed me." Stefon curls a finger through one of Seth's locks, tucking it behind his ear. "I like you like this, you're so... relaxed. Open. If I knew that having sex with you would cause this I would've insisted on it much earlier."

Seth laughs. "Sex doesn't solve every problem."

"It seems to have solved this one," Stefon says, smirking at him. "I couldn't figure out why you were so resistant to it. It's always been obvious that you liked me the same way I liked you."

Seth shrugs. "I guess it was more obvious to you than to me, or maybe I just couldn't admit it to myself. I was... well, I was also kind of worried that you'd be done with me after we slept together. You're not about to disappear if I let you walk out the door, right? Because I'm pretty sure I have rope around here somewhere and I _will_ tie you to the bed if I have to."

"Ooooh, that sounds like something nice to try later." Stefon winks and pecks him on the cheek. "Don't worry, I’m not going anywhere. I've only had a taste of the Seth Meyers appetizer, I want to have the whole five-course meal." He presses Seth back down against the bed, kissing down his neck.

Seth is pretty sure Stefon just asked him to be his boyfriend. Through a food metaphor.

God that is so hot.

~

So they're in a _relationship_ now, but nothing's really changed.

Well, that's not true- they're having a lot of _amazing_ sex, and Stefon's upped his sleepovers to four or five days a week, and Seth's finding a lot more yogurt containers in the fridge, but honestly? They were already spending so much time together before Seth got stupid and tried to derail everything. They were basically already dating.

"You need to brighten this dressing room up," Stefon says as he twirls around in the makeup chair, munching on carrots and sizing up Seth's suit for the evening. "Maybe some fluffy pink scarves, a nice chiffon pillow set- ooooh, have you ever thought about a dildo lamp?"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Seth says, brushing down his suit and checking his hair in the mirror. "Do I look alright?"

"Extremely do-able," Stefon says, sliding out of the chair and wrapping his arms around Seth's neck from behind, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Would Seth Meyers like Stefon to take his mind off the season finale for a bit?"

"While that's tempting, I'm pretty sure Kristen, Andy and Abby would be a little pissed if we showed up looking ruffled and sweaty to their last show."

"I disagree; I think they'd be very encouraging of you having sex if it meant you would stop being a grumpy douche."

"Hey!" Seth scowls. "I haven't been that bad."

"You made Bobby cry during dress rehearsal."

"He was messing up his lines..."

"Because you were staring at him with scary murder eyes."

"I wrote those lines, they're very funny," Seth pouts.

"And they'll be funnier if the person performing them isn't three seconds from running screaming into the night."

"You are so hyperbolic. I don't scare anyone... I'm the complete opposite of scary."

"I've seen you without coffee, don't lie to Stefon."

There's a knock at the door. They both separate instantly, they haven't told anyone yet and Seth asked Stefon to wait until he’s ready, because Seth’s not-quite-straightness isn’t something he’s going to get used to overnight, much less be able to explain to friends or millions of strangers.

Jason pokes his head in and waves. "Evening, gentlemen. You too, Stefon."

" _Ha. Ha. Ha_ ," Stefon says, unable to mask the smile that ruins his pretended offense.

"Sorry, bad joke. Hey, Seth, you're still bringing Labat Blue to the after party tonight, right?"

"Yeah, put me down for three bottles. You doing ok, man?" he asks. Jason seems a little off.

"Yeah, I just- I can't believe they're leaving." He shrugs. "We've been here how many years? I just wonder if it's time to think about where to head next."

"I'll still be here for a while longer," Seth says, giving him a supportive smile. "We're not that old yet, Sudekis."

Jason nods. "You're right. Ok, see you boys on the set."

Seth looks back at Stefon after Jason leaves- the man is gazing at him with an unreadable expression. "What, something in my hair?"

"I think once you leave, I will too," Stefon says matter-of-factly.

"Oh- are you sure? I'm sure Lorne would have no problem keeping you on- I'll have a little say in who they replace me with, I'm sure."

"Yes yes yes," Stefon says, folding his hands in front of his face and nodding sagely. "I wouldn't ever want to do this without Seth Meyers."

Seth can’t help the smile or the accompanying flush of affection he feels. He leans in and kisses Stefon softly - and isn’t it awesome that he can just _do_ this now? No more telling himself that there’s nothing between them. No more denial, no more lies. Something real for the both of them.

“Mmmm, you’d better stop,” Stefon murmurs against Seth’s lips, even as Seth backs him towards the couch. “You said you didn’t want to get ruffled.”

“That was old me. Fuck that guy, he’s a drag,” Seth murmurs back, nipping down Stefon’s jaw. “New me wants to get ruffled and sweaty enough to get a lecture from my boss about professionalism in the workplace.”

“Oh, well in that case, I’m very happy to assist Seth Meyers with this,” Stefon says, pulling at Seth’s tie. “What are your thoughts on hickeys? I have always been fond of them, but if I gave you one now I’m sure it would be _distracting_ during the show.” Stefon says it in a way - and with a wicked look - that makes Seth think he’d be very pleased to have distracted Seth on the job.

“Yes, please,” Seth says, eager to be distracted.

~

The summer swelters and Seth thanks his good fortune for a job that pays enough to not worry about air conditioning. He's basically forcing Stefon to stay over every day of the week; he's pretty sure whatever craphole apartment Stefon lives in doesn't have air, and Stefon never takes off those fucking long-sleeved shirts so he'd probably die from heat-stroke if the weather hits the mid-80s.

"I thought you guys met at the after party," Seth says, cradling the phone against his ear as he munches on Doritos. He's catching up with Amy; they haven't talked since May.

"No- you went missing for a good hour and by the time I saw you come back in with some tall guy trailing behind you, I was getting ready to leave."

"That _was_ Stefon."

"I figured as much. So are you two dating?"

Seth chokes on a chip, cursing Amy's uncanny ability to read situations. “Uhhhhhh...”

"Oh my gosh, you are! That's adorable. I was wondering when you'd finally bone a dude."

"Finally?"

"Yeah, I knew you were at least a little bi-curious the first day I met you."

"Apparently you knew more than I did." He hears a beep in his ear, and looks to see an unknown number blinking on his phone. "Can you hold on? Someone's trying to get me on the other line."

"I have to go anyway- tell your boyfriend that I can tell him all your dirty secrets from your early show days. Okay? Bye!"

She hangs up. Seth wonders exactly how much blackmail material she has stored up. God, he was a mess in his early years.

He taps the unknown number to open the line. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Meyers? This is Doctor Claire Francis from Manhattan General. I'm calling regarding Mr. Zolesky? He says you're his emergency contact."

Seth's heart jumps into his throat. "What happened? Is he ok? Did he get hurt?"

"He'll be fine, Mr. Meyers. He was accidentally hit crossing the street; he's got a fractured radius and a few bruised ribs. We're calling to see if you can pick him up; he's being very insistent that he doesn't want to stay."

"I'll be right over." Seth takes down the address for the hospital and barely remembers to grab his keys and wallet before he's running out the door.

When he gets to the hospital, they direct him to a waiting room down the hall. Seth opens the door to find Stefon sitting on an untouched bed, dangling his legs over the side and whistling to himself. His left arm is pulled up in a sling, and Seth can see a few bumps and scrapes on his forehead. But other than that, he looks fine.

"Seth Meyers!" Stefon exclaims happily. "You came."

"Of course I did! What the hell happened?"

"Rogue bike messenger," Stefon said. "Didn't even stop to see if I was ok. Luckily he knocked me onto the sidewalk instead of into the street. They wanted to give me a cast, but I said no."

"Wh-what? Are you nuts? You have a broken arm!"

"It's only a small fracture. I just have to keep my arm completely still for six weeks; I've practiced tantric sex before, this is no biggie. No hand jobs for my boyfriend, but I can find other ways to keep him happy." Stefon waggles his eyebrows.

"No, we are getting you a cast, and that's final!" Seth feels like he's speaking to a child he doesn't have.

"But-”

“Give me one good reason - and no, wanting to stick it to ‘the man’ is not a good reason - why you shouldn’t get a cast.”

I can't afford it."

"Didn't you give your insurance card to the nurse at the front desk?"

"...did Stefon forget to mention that he doesn't have insurance?"

Seth stares at him, dumbfounded. "Yes, Stefon absolutely forgot to mention this. What the hell are you _doing_ with all that money we pay you on the show?"

"Well, Black George Washington started a Kickstarter to make coats for naked mole rats, and Colonel Flanders- that's the guy who serves fried chicken in the shape of Simpsons' characters- he needed money for his restaurant, and I needed clothes-"

" _What do you wear besides five identical copies of the same fucking shirt?!_ "

"-and I guess I spent the rest on greek yogurt and appletinis?"

Seth presses a hand to his eyes and squints, resisting the urge to strangle him. "Ok. Here's what's going to happen. I am going to pay for your cast- no, shut up, this is not a debate- and then we are going to go to call my health insurance tomorrow and get you set up on a plan, and _then_ we're going to teach you how to make a budget so you won't have to spend your golden years giving BJs in back alleys to random shady dudes for spare change."

"I was planning on doing that anyway- oww!" He yelps when Seth smacks him on his good shoulder. "I meant the budget part, not the blowjobs part!"

"I can't be too sure with you." Seth sighs. "You need to take care of yourself. For my blood pressure, if nothing else. It's 2012 and we're not characters living in a tragic gay romance movie a la _Brokeback Mountain_. I want you around for a while. Ok?"

"Okay." Stefon kisses him on the forehead and motions to the door. "Tell the nice lady doctor she can patch me up. I wanted to ask her about where she got her heels, anyway."

"Let's add ‘working on your priorities’ to that list," Seth says, but he's smiling as he walks out.

~

The cast is an inhibition on their normally voracious sex life, but they find ways to work around it. Stefon introduces Seth to the concept of a “service top” and Seth learns very quickly that being praised for how good he can make Stefon feel is a big turn on. He draws a smiley face on the checkbox of the list of kinks they keep in Seth’s bedside table, the one that Stefon insisted they fill out. Seth is a hard no on watersports, while Stefon is a surprising hard no on any discipline - there’s a history there he’s not willing to explain yet. Something about Dame Judy Dench and a Pilates class gone wrong. Seth doesn’t push it. He’s just happy doing whatever makes Stefon happy, and that list is expansive and seemingly endless.

When the cast comes off eight weeks later, the weather has turned cool and crisp, the edge of fall creeping through the streets of New York. Stefon bursts into Seth’s apartment bright and early at five pm and announces that they have to, _have to_ go to New York’s hottest new club, _Not the Freuds You’re Looking For_ , to celebrate the healing of Stefon’s ‘hand job arm’.

“Seth Meyers, you promised me that you would go out with me to a club. It’s like a rite of passage for any of my long-term lovers who aren’t into the club scene. Although I’ve never had any other lovers who aren’t into the club scene. Ooooo, look at you, Seth Meyers, breaking boundaries for business-suited comedy men everywhere.”

“Stefon, remind me when I promised this?”

“Two weeks ago. Remember the night with the wasabi shots? When you let me fist your-”

“Right, right,” Seth says, trying very hard to not remember that night and the way he walked funny for the next few days. “I don’t know, Stefon. I don’t think I’d fit in at any of your clubs. I don’t like taking pills of indiscriminate origin from little people or waking up in strange beds with new body piercings.”

“Awww, don’t be the drug-sniffing dog who seized my shipment of ayahuasca, you party pooper.” Stefon drapes his arms around Seth’s shoulders, hanging on like an over-sized koala covered in glitter. “You will have so much fun, I promise. When have I ever lied to you?”

“You told me they only had organic bananas at the bodega because you think regular bananas are filled with Monsanto-designed chemicals that make people believe they like capitalism.”

“And you still pay your taxes every year, so who’s the sober one and who’s the one getting drugged for corporate America? Hmmm?”

“I don’t know about this, Stefon,” Seth says. “I may be a C list celebrity but if the paparazzi get a picture of me, like, doing body shots off a Human Bar Cart-”

“You know about those?”

“No, but I figured there was a pretty good chance if I put three words together you’d confirm it existed. I’m just saying, I have a job that requires me to be appealing to Middle American liberals, not just New York’s LGBTQ community.”

Stefon pouts, jutting out his lip in a way that’s both wildly sexy and frustratingly juvenile. “Please? Trust me?”

Even though a little Lorne Michaels is jumping up and down in Seth’s head, slapping him with a copy of his employment contract, Seth sighs and nods, signing his own death sentence when he says, “Fine, but only for a few hours. I still have a show tomorrow night and I need to be lucid. And you need to be sober too. Minimal drinking and no hard drugs, got it?”

Stefon rolls his eyes but squishes Seth against his chest with his gangly arms and says, “Whenever you want to revoke that condition, just let me know.”

Seth puts on a nice baby-blue button down and after some fussing, lets Stefon apply just a little eyeliner that he declares makes Seth look “extremely fuckable.” After making Stefon triple-pinky-swear promise to have Seth home by midnight, they’re off. The A train takes them to the 1 train, which somehow leads to the J train, and then the.... Z train? Seth swears that’s not a real line, and when they walk out onto the corner of Marsha P. Johnson Avenue and 321st Street, Seth thinks he’s left his New York behind.

They follow a train of Ru Paul impersonators down three alleyways, up through an abandoned brownstone and back down the other side. Stefon seems to know these people, chatting excitedly with them in a language of weird club names and performance artists that Seth couldn’t begin to understand. Finally, they slip into another alley and join a line of people waiting to enter a set of double doors, above which a neon R2-D2 wearing round glasses and smoking a pipe flickers in a blue hue.

Seth knows he’s getting looks. Between the drag queens, the group of 20-something topless women with breasts painted to look like Pokeballs, and the skinny trio of twinks wearing leather and smoking a joint wrapped in rainbow rolling paper, Seth is the odd man out tonight, not Stefon. Still, nobody gives him more than a passing inspection, and it might have something to do with how comfortable Stefon appears, arm draped over Seth’s shoulder. He keeps pressing gentle kisses to Seth’s forehead, his cheek, and his neck while he chats up the other people in line. It’s clear that Seth is here _with_ Stefon, and that makes Seth okay. A fleeting curiosity, but not a threat, like someone dressed like Seth might normally be.

Stefon puts up a good front during their work hours, but Seth sometimes sees the cracks of discomfort in his cheerful, carefree persona. Like how he shies close to Seth in the studio, especially when Lorne decides Middle America’s ratings are slipping and an appropriately strong-jawed, toxically masculine white guy needs to guest host - Stefon practically hid in Seth’s dressing room the week Mark Wahlberg showed up. In contrast, here, in this run down alley with a cast of colorful characters who don’t blink an eye at Stefon’s wild clothing or manner of being, Stefon has never looked happier.

Once they make it through the double doors, they get drinks and then head to the dance floor. At first, Seth is an awkward sober dancer, and Stefon doesn’t even have to coerce him to get a second, and then a third drink. But then, somewhere between his second orangetini and the remix mashup of Queen and Nine Inch Nails, appropriately titled _We Will Fuck You Like an Animal,_ he loosens the top three buttons of his shirt and loses himself in the music.

The room is a swirl of color, of lights and laughter. Men kiss men and women kiss women, not hidden away in corners but out in the open, no fear, defiant of a world outside looking to cage them in. Stefon pulls Seth flush against him and mouths against the side of his neck in a wanton display of desire. Seth’s spine tingles in a mixture of arousal and anxiety. It feels good, and nobody seems to be watching them, but his mind is screaming that he should pull away, distance himself, because what if... what if?

“ _Seth Meyers_ ,” Stefon purrs, cupping Seth’s cheeks. “Stop worrying. You are fitting in just _fine_.”

“Yeah?” Seth asks, biting his lower lip. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Stefon smiles, holding up a hand and opening his palm. There are two white pills in the center. “But you’re anxious, Stefon can tell. I know you said no drugs, but this will relax you.”

“Where did you even get these? I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“I’ve got my ways.”

Seth stares at the little white tablets. He’s not exactly averse to casual drug use - between Stefon and Mulaney, a lot of his friends are into some crazy shit - it’s just that Seth has never thought of himself as part of that group. He’s a straight-laced kind of guy. Somebody who ends up the head writer of a national comedy show by his early 30s, not somebody who indiscriminately takes drugs because their boyfriend suggested it.

This is probably a terrible idea. But, he supposes, he’s allowed to make terrible decisions every once in a while.

“You promise I’ll be okay in the morning?” Seth asks.

Stefon nods, petting Seth’s hair. “Of course. This will just make those little anxiety Lornes running around in your brain shut up a little. You won’t do anything on these you didn’t already want to.”

“You make it sound like I’m still holding myself back.”

Stefon smiles and places a tablet on his own tongue. Then he leans in and kisses Seth and somewhere in the mess of mouths and lips, the tablet makes its way down Seth’s throat.

“So stop holding back,” Stefon whispers against Seth’s lips. “Let go.”

The world dissolves like the pill making its way through Seth’s system. It’s like that first sip of coffee he took with Stefon all those years ago, except magnified by a thousand. The twisting, flashing lights blind Seth with color, the air tastes of thick, thumping beats, and Stefon’s hands are fire on his skin.

Seth writhes and shudders at every touch, every overwhelming noise and sight and sound. He wants more, he _needs_ more. Who knew the world could feel like this?

More buttons on his shirt come undone. Somewhere along the line, a drag queen hands Seth a sparkly pink halter top, and he thinks, fuck it, why not live a little? He loses his shirt and yanks on the top, loving the cool air on his shoulders, and the way the fabric clings across his chest. Stefon looks delighted, nuzzling into Seth’s collarbone and creating delicious sensations with swirls of his tongue.

There’s a loud pop, and Seth looks up to see there are balloons on the ceiling, and one has just been hit by a dart. Glitter pours down in a shimmering rain that lands in their hair as they giggle and sway together.

Later, Stefon catches Seth staring at a dark-haired stranger, and before Seth can babble a list of excuses -his emergent bisexuality is making it harder to ignore other attractive men - Stefon starts whispering encouraging, deceitfully filthy things about what they could do to him together. Seth is momentarily shocked, but of course Stefon would be fine with this, would see it as just another way Seth can loosen up, wouldn’t feel threatened, already knows how bad Seth has it for Stefon, and no hot dude could override his loyalty.

“Monogamy is so overrated,” Stefon murmurs, teasing his tongue up the curve of Seth’s ear. “You’re still coming home with me tonight, so what’s wrong with having a little fun?”

“Yeah,” Seth breathes. “Yeah, okay.”

They approach him, and Seth lets Stefon take the lead, dropping a flirtatious line and asking if the guy’s up for a good time. Whatever Stefon and Seth are on, the guy must be on it too, because he takes one look at Stefon and, without even asking, shoves his tongue down Stefon’s throat. Seth feels the inherent stirring of jealousy, but then Stefon is dragging him close, pulling him and the guy off the dance floor, down a narrow corridor and into a single stall bathroom.

The guy proceeds to suck Stefon off, on his knees on the filthy floor while Seth holds his head down. Seth stares at Stefon’s face the whole time, watching enraptured at Stefon’s ecstatic expressions. He’s gorgeous, and the noises the guy makes as Stefon fucks up into his throat send waves and waves of anticipatory pleasure rolling up through Seth’s stomach.

After Stefon comes, he pulls a bottle of _Wet_ out of an insert hidden in the top of the toilet tank - dear god, think of the health code violations - and drags the guy over his lap. He tugs the guy’s pants down and pushes two fingers into him, making him gasp and squirm as Seth looks on in shock.

“All yours, baby,” Stefon murmurs, kicking the man’s legs wide and pulling Seth to stand behind him. “If you want him. I’d love to watch you.”

“ _Jesus,_ Stefon,” Seth groans. “Uh, um, condoms?”

The toilet tank continues to provide.

Seth rolls on the condom and pushes into the man, meeting Stefon’s mouth over his head and gasping at the tightness, the heat. It’s different than how it feels when he’s inside Stefon. Seth didn’t know that could be a thing. Every sensation is powerfully overwhelming, and if he were sober he’d be freaking out over the insanity of this situation, but as it is he just lives in the moment, gripping the stranger’s hips and rocking into him. It’s a little awkward with the low angle of the toilet, but they make it work. Stefon starts to jerk off the other man, his eyes locked with Seth’s the whole time. Nobody lasts very long.

Afterwards, Seth staggers back and watches Stefon be a gentleman, helping the stranger clean up, giving him a kiss on the cheek and muttering “thanks for joining us, Eddie,” before nudging him out of the stall, locking it behind the man.

“Wait- you _know_ that guy?” Seth gapes.

Stefon laughs. “Of course I know him. I know everybody here, baby. I also know he’s very pedantic about his sexual health. Practically carries his test results in his back pocket. I’d bet every hair on Bark Ruffalo’s little body that he’s clean.” Stefon grabs Seth’s hips, tugging him to sit on Stefon’s lap. “Do you think I’d ask you if you wanted to have a threesome with a random stranger?”

“Uh...?”

“Awwww, Seth Meyers!” Stefon kisses him slowly, fondly. “Look at you, so adventurous. Hmmmm, this is a turn on for Stefon, I think.” As if to demonstrate, he rocks upwards, and Seth can feel the press of his cock against his inner thigh. “You know, there’s plenty of condoms and lube left in here...”

Fuck it, Seth thinks, yanking his pants down to give Stefon more access. Letting go is the best idea Stefon’s ever had.

~

Seth wakes up the next morning with no hangover but a tight knot of anxiety in his stomach. Dozens of people saw him at that club. People might’ve taken pictures, what if this gets out on social media? How could he be so stupid, so _reckless..._

But for all his panicking, he never hears a peep about it in the news. No wild stories of debauchery or pink halter tops. It’s as if what happens at those clubs stays at those clubs.

So maybe, Seth thinks, he’s not so bad at fitting in with Stefon’s lifestyle after all.

~

This Christmas is definitely different than the last one. For one thing, Seth is dating the man he thought he would never be able to have a good relationship with again, his parents are actually happy about this, and the Christmas Eve dinner with his extended family is a lot rowdier than last year's, thanks in part to Stefon acting as an emcee the entire night and getting Seth’s great Aunt Mildred to dance to the Black Eyed Peas like a drunken 20-year-old sorority girl. It's an image that Seth will never be able to forget, and neither will anyone else in the family.

That evening, locked in the guest bedroom together, Stefon gives him a little matryoshka doll of himself, because Seth has been thinking about doing some stand-up tours lately and “I know Seth Meyers will get lonely without me.” Of course, Stefon being Stefon, there aren’t any other dolls inside the big one when Seth pops it open, but instead a silicone insert with a puckered opening that is definitely a modified Fleshlight. Thank God they decided to open their presents together, without the rest of the family around.

Seth gives Stefon a bedazzled leather jacket with spikes up and down the shoulders because Stefon stared at it in a consignment shop for ten minutes once, looked at the price tag, sighed and dragged Seth back out, which meant three hours later Seth rushed back to the shop to buy it for him. Stefon tells him this jacket will go with “everything” and knowing Stefon, he’ll probably find a way to make that true.

Curled up in bed together, Seth listens to the sounds of the house quieting down, the other guests drifting off to their own rooms for bed. Tomorrow will be a relaxed affair; a Christmas morning brunch followed by a lazy day of lounging in pajamas and watching Christmas movies. Stefon packed his fluffiest set of green and pink pajama bottoms - the ones _with_ fabric over the ass, Seth made sure of it.

“Seth Meyers?” Stefon mumbles drowsily. He’s rubbing his cheek against Seth’s chest, literally purring. If Seth didn’t know any better, he’d think Stefon was on something, except Stefon had promised to stay sober for the whole time spent with Seth’s family. That’s quite a feat, even for Seth, so they’ve both been sneaking cups of the spiked punch all evening, but nothing else besides. After Seth’s first encounter with the kinds of party drugs Stefon uses, he’s good with that being his only encounter.

“Yeah, Stefon?” Seth mumbles back.

“Your family’s really nice.”

“Yeah. They like you a lot.” His parents might find Stefon a little odd, but as Seth’s dad told him a few nights ago, it’s clear how happy Stefon makes Seth, and that’s all they could want in a partner for their child.

“No one I’ve dated has ever invited me home before.”

The revelation sits there, a heavy stone, making Seth’s stomach curl. He holds Stefon just a little tighter, like the precious thing he is. “That’s a shame, Stefon. They were missing out.”

“I know I can be a lot sometimes,” Stefon says. “At least, according to every single guy I’ve ever dated. So I’m probably fifty-fifty on believing that’s true. But I’m glad I’m just right for you.”

“I always thought I was too boring for you,” Seth confesses. “And I still don’t get why you want me sometimes. If you were looking for a rich Hollywood sugar daddy who loves snorting drugs and partying until three in the morning, I’m sure Lorne knows a dozen who would have you in a heartbeat.”

“Why would I want a richer version of myself for a partner?” Stefon asks. He slides up, nose trailing across Seth’s collarbone as he presses a kiss to the visible skin. “That’s like, so heterosexual. Really, Seth Meyers. _Uggh._ ”

Seth shivers and tilts his head back, letting his arms fall to his sides. “Explain it, then. Why do you like me so much?”

“Hmmm.” Stefon pushes up onto his knees and straddles Seth’s waist, blinking down at him. “Well, why do you like me?”

“I...” Seth’s never had to put it into words before. He frowns, biting his lip and thinking. “Because you’re just so unafraid of being yourself. And that guy is really kind and funny and smart, even if he doesn’t always have the best common sense. And somehow he’s the only person on the planet capable of looking attractive in Ed Hardy shirts.”

Stefon grins. “It’s something you’re born with, not something that can be learned.”

Seth chuckles. “See? Like that. You’re just... you. And you don’t let anybody shame you or change that.”

Stefon leans over, his bangs curling across his face, obscuring one eye. “And that’s why I like Seth Meyers. You don’t ask me to be anyone other than myself. You don’t need me to change to be someone you want to be around. You like Stefon for Stefon’s sake.”

“I still worry about you a lot,” Seth says, reaching up to stroke a hand down Stefon’s cheek. “What if I asked you to try and get sober? Or at least cut down? Would that be me asking you to change too much?”

Stefon searches Seth’s gaze, and then, to Seth’s relief, shakes his head. “I used to use a lot more when I wasn’t with you, or even before I started coming on your show. It’s different when you’ve got other things to care about outside of partying and finding the hottest new clubs. Being high all the time isn’t as fun.”

“And you’ve got things you care about now?” Seth asks, like an insecure asshole. “Besides that stuff?”

“Mhmm. My paycheck. Bark Ruffalo. The love and adoration of the American public.”

“Okay.”

Stefon finally bridges the last few inches and kisses Seth, long and slowly and sweetly. Seth wraps his arms around Stefon’s back, groaning into the kiss.

“And Seth Meyers’ cortisol levels,” Stefon mutters, making Seth giggle. “You’re much happier and hornier when you’re not stressed out.”

“Is that a scientific fact?” Seth asks, lifting his hips as Stefon’s hands find the waistband of Seth’s pajama bottoms.

“My undergraduate degree in psychology says yes, it is,” Stefon retorts. “Now just relax, and let me collect more data.”

~

Eventually, Seth fucks it all up.

See, it’s one thing to confess your feelings for your close male friend behind closed doors and share the news with family and loved ones. It’s a completely different thing to have it out there, on display, for millions of late night viewers.

Seth already had reservations about the next show with Stefon, after their whole ‘you-kissed-me-on-air-and-my-girlfriend-dumped-me-and-I-realized-I-wanted-you-so-now-we’re-dating’ scenario. His concerns are only amplified when Lorne calls Seth into his office on the morning of the show.

“People like the flirty banter,” Lorne tells him. “Homoeroticism has been a storied tradition at SNL for decades, but only when the audience is in on the joke. If they know you’re actually a couple, well, they might get weirded out.” He shrugs. “You know I don’t care, but America’s not so progressive. Remember the way they dragged Cooper when he came out?”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t say anything,” Seth states. “We should just keep pretending that I have a girlfriend and I’m not sleeping with our city correspondent?”

“Look, I know you’re thinking about a late night host job when you get out of here,” Lorne explains, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t keep you forever. So think about your future. Would it really be so bad to keep your personal life personal? At least until you find what you wanna do long-term. In a few years, it won’t matter.”

“Is this a choice?”

“Of course it’s a choice.” Lorne has the most goddamn inflexible poker face in all of comedy, and today is no different; he’s impossible to read. “But I would strongly encourage you to take the advice. I’ve been in show biz long enough to know how these things go.”

Stefon isn’t pleased when he hears what Lorne had to say.

“But Seth Meyers!” Stefon drapes himself over Seth’s dressing room couch, expression deep in pout. “Embracing your sexuality should be celebrated! Just because your boss keeps his freaky, nipple-spanking fetishes behind closed doors-”

“Please never bring my boss’ sex life up, we talked about this-”

“-doesn’t mean he knows what you’re going through.”

“It’s not that easy,” Seth says, sitting down next to him. “Look, does all of America need to know what we do in the bedroom?”

Stefon frowns. “Well, you already vetoed my cam sex for cash idea, so I’m guessing you think that’s a no.”

“Exactly.” Seth nods. “The people we care about know we’re together, or they will soon. So fuck the rest of ‘em.”

And so in front of the cameras, they keep playing up the flirty banter, pretending Seth’s personal life is something it’s not. Stefon clearly isn’t happy with the arrangement, but then it’s summer and there’s no reason to argue about it. The next show is right before Halloween, and Stefon is helping with club promotion for New York’s hottest club, whose name is just the sound of an angry hissing cat, so he’s far too distracted to put up any argument.

The March show is when everything goes to hell.

“ _I’m the future Mrs. Stefon Meyers, goodnight!_ ”

Those words are still rattling around in Seth’s brain when he and Stefon get back to his apartment that night.

“Can you set an alarm for me?” Stefon asks as they trod through the door. He’s yawning, stretching his arms languidly above his head. “I need to make sure I get home at a reasonable hour to take Bark Ruffalo for a walk. The last time I waited too long, he left me a nasty present in my expensive Louboutin heels and it was not a happy time in the Zolesky house, let me tell you.”

“Mmmm,” Seth replies, not really listening. He fidgets with the cuffs of his shirt, tiredly trying to undo them, only to have Stefon come swooping in, shooing Seth’s hands out of the way and working on the cuffs himself.

“Poor Mister big city news corespondent,” Stefon says teasingly, flicking a button free. “Can’t even undress himself after his show. What would you do without me?”

“Stop it,” Seth says, suddenly annoyed. “I’m not a child, Stefon, I can do it myself.” He pulls his arms away, huffing.

“Awwww, somebody gets cranky when he’s tired.” Stefon moves behind Seth and corrals him down the hall towards the bedroom. “Well, lucky for you, Stefon’s here to send you off to dreamland.”

He’s so carefree, ushering Seth along like those words didn’t come out of his mouth, like the implication behind them doesn’t need talking about. But Seth’s not that kind of guy.

Seth sits on the bed and pats the mattress beside him. “Wanna talk to you.”

“Oh?” Stefon settles next to him, crossing his legs. “Is it bad? Are you pregnant? I’m already a father, but I’m not sure I can handle two child support payments. Not that Jacked Beth really asks me for much, but-”

“Would you be serious for one second?” Seth snaps, wincing when he realizes how harsh his tone is. Stefon instantly goes quiet. “Fuck, I’m sorry- look, never mind. I’ll talk to you about it in the morning.”

“Mmmm, with that kind of attitude, I don’t think it should wait, whatever it is,” Stefon says. “Tell me now. What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember what you said at the end of your segment?”

“Something sassy and charming? That’s usually what I aim for.”

Seth sighs. “You called yourself Mrs. Stefon Meyers.”

“Oh. Wait, this is what you’re upset about?”

“Stefon, that’s a big step. You can’t just- just throw it out there like that.”

Stefon huffs, folding his arms. “Why not? Isn’t that what people in long-term relationships do? ‘Test the waters’? At least, that’s what I’ve heard. The longest relationship I was in before this was a three month Vegas wedding to a member of a popular 90s boy band group - and yes, it is the guy you’re thinking of.”

“Not on the show,” Seth counters. “That’s too much. And that crack about your five-timers club? Are you trying to get me reprimanded?”

“You knew what I was suggesting. You played right into it!”

“Well maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“What are you so worried about? Oh right, I forgot, you’re afraid that the straights will find out that I’m your dirty little secret.” Stefon rolls his eyes.

Anger coils in Seth’s gut, because Stefon’s implication hits too close to home. He weakly tries to defend himself. “That’s not true, Stefon.”

“Yes it is. See, I’m not just gorgeous and charming, Seth Meyers, I’m also very smart.” Stefon taps the side of his head with a finger, as if to demonstrate this brilliance. “And in the eyes of the public, you’re still Captain Heterosexual on the SS Straightlandia and you want it to stay that way.”

“So what if I do?” Seth asks. “I’m out to the people who matter. You’ve met my family and I’ve made attempts to meet yours even though you insist they would eat me alive. Isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe for you. But not for me.”

“You can’t just shove me out of the closet, Stefon. It’s not as easy for me as it was for you-”

“Shut up! Don’t you dare say I had it easy!” Stefon snaps. Seth’s never seen him look quite this mad before. “You don’t know anything about how it was for me, so don’t talk like you do.”

“Fine, you're right,” Seth says. “I don’t know. But you don’t know what I’m going through either.”

“Or do I?”

“Stefon.”

“ _Noooooo_ , Stefon couldn’t possibly understand being afraid of how his life would change when he came out. Stefon has no experience with that _at all_.”

“It’s not the same!”

“Well, it’s not that different.” Stefon sighs. He stands up, and Seth follows as he walks out of the bedroom.“I’m tired of being your dirty little secret, Seth Meyers. When I came out, the one thing I promised myself, in front of God and the holiday shoppers at the Victoria’s Secret I was in, was that I wouldn’t go back in the closet for anyone, no way, no how. Because, like the L’Oreal commercials say, _I’m worth it_.”

“I’m not asking you to do that,” Seth insists. “I’m just asking you to tone it down. Everybody doesn’t need to know our business.”

“What if I want them to know it?” Stefon asks. “When do I get to finally tell people that I’m dating New York’s hottest comedy news anchor? Give me a date.”

“It’s not set in stone.”

“So that means never.”

“No, it means...” Stefon’s heading for the door, and Seth catches up with him, clasping his hands and tugging him to face Seth. “Look, Leno’s bound to retire in the next few years, and I’m probably on some list for Fallon’s job, but if I come out before I can establish myself, I can kiss any late night host job goodbye.”

“Hmmmm, yes, yes, yes,” Stefon says, pulling his hands out of Seth’s grasp. “You know, I’m glad this isn’t the first time a man’s chosen his career over me, so I know when to call out his bullshit.”

“That’s not what this is! You’re being unreasonable.”

“No, Seth Meyers.” Stefon shakes his head. “You’re just a coward. You’re so afraid, that me trying your last name out sent you into this itty bitty baby tantrum.”

“Yeah, well, since when are you the kind of guy to think about those things?”

“What things?”

“The future. Marriage.”

“I’m not getting any younger, Seth Meyers. I can’t just wait around with no promise of long-term commitment. This is the time I should be looking for somebody, because pretty soon I’ll just be a washed up has-been, ready to enter my depressed Liza Minnelli phase with lots of sparkly mumus in my closet and three tiny dogs to give all of my love to.”

“You’ll go full Liza anyway, with or without a boyfriend.”

“Maybe,” Stefon says. He shakes his head. “But I’d like something a little more permanent, and I guess you’re too busy still figuring yourself out.”

“Stefon, please,” Seth pleads. “I just need some more time.”

Stefon laughs bitterly. “Do you know what Monday is? Our anniversary, remember? We’ve been together for a year. How much longer do you need?”

Seth is silent.

“That’s what I thought.” Stefon opens the front door, glancing back at Seth. “I’m tired of waiting, and I won’t put my life on hold. Not even for you, Seth Meyers.”

When he slams the door, it echoes and echoes, like opportunity fading away, and the sound haunts Seth as he lies awake for the rest of the night.

~

Stefon doesn’t answer his texts. Or his calls. Seth isn’t apologizing, he isn’t getting down on his knees and begging. Maybe he’s not in the right, but neither is Stefon. They just need to talk about this in person. Which would be easier if Stefon would answer his phone.

By early April, Seth is starting to get concerned; this is the longest Stefon’s been out of contact with him during any period of their friendship. The problem is also that Stefon has refused to ever give Seth information about his apartment, so Seth has no idea where he actually lives.

“So, how come I haven’t seen Stefon around here for the past month?” Mulaney asks one Thursday, as they’re bent over Update scripts in Mulaney’s office.

Seth has never been the type to talk about his romantic relationship with others, but now, after feeling harried and anxious for weeks, he finds himself spilling his guts, explaining the fight with Stefon, and then beyond that - his fears about the future, and not knowing whether he can get everything he wants and still have Stefon.

“Wow,” Mulaney says when he’s done. “You probably need therapy, man. Like, a lot of therapy. And maybe just talk to the guy?”

“I’ve been trying to,” Seth says. “He’s been ignoring everything I send him.”

“Well, how about this,” Mulaney says. “We’ve got an open Update slot to fill during the last show of the season. If I text him and ask him to come on, we could at least get him in the studio.”

“You have his phone number? Wait- you talk to him outside of the studio?”

“Dude, relax, I’m not fucking him behind your back or anything,” Mulaney says, snickering and patting Seth on the shoulder. “We share vegan baking recipes and dumb memes and he always knows good spots I can take my girlfriend on dates. He’s our city correspondent for a reason.”

“Yeah, yeah I guess so,” Seth says. Wow, he’s never had his hackles go up like that, and for fuck’s sake, he knows Mulaney is straight. But the idea of anyone else knowing Stefon in a way Seth doesn’t... it drives him crazy.

So when he finally gets a text back from Stefon at the end of April, saying _I’ve moved on_ and sees Stefon’s Facebook page update from _single_ to _in a relationship_ \- no name, no indication of who - it shouldn’t surprise him how badly it hurts. But it does hurt, so much. Seth buys ice cream - of course, the only one available at the 7/11 at this time of night is the one with stupid Colbert’s face on it, that asshole - and drowns his sorrows in whiskey and humanely sourced frozen dairy.

Seth tries calling a dozen times that night, but they all go straight to voicemail. All his texts come back as undelivered. Stefon’s probably blocked his number. The next day, he harasses Mulaney, asking him to send messages on Seth’s behalf, but Mulaney just shakes his head and says, “I don’t get in the middle of romantic disputes man, sorry.”

He does have surprising news, though. Stefon has agreed to do the May show. Which, how is that going to work? Seth feels sick to his stomach at the idea of getting up on that stage, sitting across from his - he won’t say ex, he refuses to say ex - boyfriend, knowing where they left it, and trying to make millions of people laugh.

“I don’t know what to do!” Seth says wearily, three nights before the show, on the phone with Amy.

Amy makes a sympathetic _hmmmm_ sound. “If you could talk to him, what would you say?”

“I...” And here, Seth draws a blank. Because for all his attempts to engage with Stefon in the last two months, they’ve mostly amounted to _hey, talk to me, hello, could you answer me please?_ He hasn’t really thought past the part where Stefon agrees to talk to him.

When they’d first started dating, it was hard enough for Seth to admit the _hey, I like you, we should be a couple_ part of his feelings. He wasn’t really thinking about the future, beyond the next few months. But suddenly a year had gone by, and Stefon was asking for commitment, and Seth chickened out, so he’s been sleeping alone in his bed for the last two months. He hasn’t gotten a good night of rest since Stefon left.

“Seth? Honey?”

Seth presses a hand to his eyes, wiping them like a person who is definitely not crying, not even a little bit. “Fuck... I love him. That’s what I’d say. I love him and I don’t care who knows it anymore.”

“Okay,” Amy says. “Then make sure you do that on Saturday. I don’t think he’d be willing to do the show one more time if he wasn’t interested in what you had to say.”

“Thanks, Amy. You uh, you think you’d wanna come by on Saturday? Be in the audience for moral support?”

“I can do you one better.”

~

Saturday is a blur. Seth stalks the studio, trying to see if Stefon has arrived, and every time he asks Mulaney, the guy just shrugs and says, “he says he’ll be here on time for the segment. That’s all I know.”

Apparently on time means _on time_ , because Seth sees him enter the studio side door about ten seconds before Seth is needed on stage for Update.

“Stefon!” Seth shouts. Stefon looks at him, and Seth opens his mouth to say it, what he’s wanted to, but then he’s being pulled away and it’s going to have to wait until after the segment. Fuck.

Seth holds it together as best he can. Honestly, he should be getting a fucking Emmy for his performance tonight; he’s going to make Lorne submit his name. Stefon is affable when his segment starts, but Seth’s so wound up that he hurries Stefon through his list, wanting it to be over, wanting Update to be over so he can get off the stage and they can talk.

Then Stefon drops the biggest fucking bombshell in Seth’s life and leaves him scrambling, stuttering, trying to hold his professionalism together. And there’s a stupid fucking story about tree frogs and he just. Can’t. Do. It. He’s frozen in front of the stage lights. Thank God Amy is there, someone to knock him out of his daze, who knows what he’s been struggling with and can give him the courage he needs.

“It’s too late,” he says.

“It’s never too late,” she says, smiling.

And the audience is laughing, because they don’t know, they don’t _understand_ , but Seth doesn’t care. He gets up and bolts off the stage, and he hears Lorne shouting from behind the scenes, “somebody get a camera on that runaway news anchor!”

Seth runs out the front door of the building as two guys with a shoulder-mount camera and boom mic follow. Whatever, not important right now. Stefon is nowhere in sight; how the fuck has he gotten so far away so fast? Where could he possibly be? Seth is never going to find him, he’s going to disappear again and Seth will never get the chance to tell him-

“Hey!” A guy operating a hot dog cart on the corner calls out to him. “You’re that uh, Weekend Update guy, right? Aren’t you supposed to be on air?”

Seth jogs over. “Yeah, yeah, but I’m trying to find my- my _boyfriend_. Have you seen a ridiculously tall man in outlandish clothing go by here?”

“Buddy, this is New York, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Seth yanks out his phone and flips to a picture in his gallery; it’s from the small birthday dinner Stefon threw him. Just a few friends, a quiet affair, because that’s all Seth had wanted. Stefon had yanked Seth onto his lap at one point during the dinner and stolen his phone, insisting they needed to take a selfie. So they’re squished together in the frame, Stefon pressing a firm kiss to Seth’s cheek while Seth laughs and looks absolutely lovestruck.

“Woah,” the hot dog guy says. “Yeah, I think I saw him go by in a taxi, actually. You know, I saw a lot of hubub over by the church on Fifth Ave a few hours ago. Maybe try that?”

Oh God. When Stefon said he was getting married- he meant _tonight_?

“Thank you,” Seth says, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem, man. You look like you really love the guy in that picture, and I’m a sucker for romance, what can I say? So, you wanna buy a hot dog now?”

“ _Maybe on the way back_!” Seth shouts, taking off again.

He gets to Marble Collegiate Church, runs inside, finds the entry to the main chapel blocked and races up the stairs to the organ room. He bursts onto the landing - and there Stefon is, below him at the altar, with another man.

Cooper _._ Of all the homosexual news anchors, it had to be the out-and-proud Anderson, of course. It’s like Stefon is rubbing it in, saying _here’s someone willing to declare they want me in front of God, a Jewish vampire, and a bunch of little people wearing orange cones._

But it wouldn’t matter who Stefon is marrying, because it’s someone who’s _not Seth_. And that’s unacceptable.

Apparently a good old fashioned wedding crash is just what Stefon’s friends need to dissolve into a wild mob. Somehow, Seth finds Stefon in the crowd and drags him out, and DJ Baby Bok Choy saves them from being overwhelmed. Seth has never appreciated a wheel-chair riding DJ in a diaper more than right now.

Then they’re outside in the cool May air, the chaos inside a distant background noise.

“Seth-” Stefon begins, but before he can go on, Seth reaches up and pulls Stefon down into an embrace, kissing him hungrily. Lorne’s camera and boom mic guy are respectful enough of the moment’s intimacy to lower the camera - or maybe Lorne still thinks the America of 2013 isn’t ready for a kiss between men on live television, which is a loss for him, because it’s one fucking _hot_ kiss - but a dozen people walking by stop to watch and clap and cheer.

“I love you,” Seth says when he breaks the kiss. “And I don’t care who knows anymore.”

Stefon steeples his hands in front of his mouth, eyes watering. Seth can see the edges of a beaming smile behind his hands.

“You- you mean it?” Stefon asks. “No more hiding?”

“No more hiding. No more opportunities to lose you. Stefon, I-” The words catch in Seth’s throat, and he swallows. On the spur of the moment, he steps back and sinks down onto one knee. The gathered crowd gasps. Stefon lets out a choked sob as Seth says, “I would really love it if you would be Stefon Meyers. Or I guess, I could be Seth Zolesky, but we can discuss-”

“ _Yes!_ ” Stefon blurts down, dragging Seth back up to his feet and burying him in a hug. “I’ll be Stefon Meyers. That’s how I sign all of my checks anyway, no need to change things.”

They stand there for a few moments, holding one another while strangers cheer, and Seth knows he’s never going to forget this moment for the rest of his whole life.

Then Stefon pulls back, gasping, “The show, Seth Meyers! You were still doing the show!”

“I think we can still make it back, if you want?” Seth says. “I’m pretty sure Amy is covering for us right now.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” says the boom mic operator, “But Lorne says you two had better get your asses back to the studio; the audience is going nuts.”

“Well, Stefon, what do you think?” Seth asks. “You wanna go tell all of America that you’re the new Mrs. Stefon Meyers?”

Stefon beams and takes Seth’s hand. “I have been dreaming about this moment since the time I saw you shirtless in the men’s dressing room at Macy’s.”

“You know that when I said to close the door, I meant for you to be on the other side of it? And wasn’t that like, three months after we met?”

“Technicalities,” Stefon says, waving him off. “Come on, Seth Meyers. We’ve got a show to finish.”

~

Of course the cast has to throw an impromptu engagement party for them. Somebody finds a liquor store open at this early hour, and they pull streamers and balloons and hanging _Congratulations_ signs from the prop department to decorate Seth’s dressing room. Seth and Stefon get forcibly draped in leis and little plastic party hats, and his friends make overwrought toasts and leave the room crying. Stefon’s brother even shows up, bloody and battle weary from the church, sweeping them both into a hug and calling Seth, “my new bro, bro!” Everyone is ecstatic.

Well, mostly everyone.

Lorne shakes Stefon’s hand politely and wishes them congratulations, but later he pulls Seth aside and asks, “Are you sure you want this? Is he worth risking your career over?”

Seth looks over to where Stefon and Amy are talking animatedly, while Mulaney ferries them drinks. Mulaney says something to Stefon, who laughs and says something in return that makes both of Seth’s friends grin widely.

Stefon glances over, catches Seth’s eye, and smiles.

“Yeah,” Seth says. “He’s worth everything in the world to me.”

Lorne sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Guess it’s time to come up with a new angle for the network execs when they come calling. How about, ‘NBC could break barriers and ride that progressive bump as the home of the first openly gay prime time late night host?’”

“I’m actually bisexual- I think?”

“Don’t make this more complicated than it needs to be, Seth.”

News of the wedding crash and subsequent love confession catches the eye of the celebrity media, after several sightseers’ pictures make it up on Twitter, and there are actual paparazzi outside of 30 Rock when Seth and Stefon get ready to leave. So to avoid the media, someone in the building calls them a limousine and they leave from the underground lot instead of the front doors.

“Look!” Stefon crows as they turn onto the street. “Bubbly!” He pulls a bottle of champagne out of the mini fridge, grinning at Seth. “You wanna open it?”

“When we get back to my place,” Seth says, tugging Stefon into his side and layering his face with kisses. “Were you really gonna marry Anderson Cooper?”

“I was on the altar, wasn’t I?” Stefon giggles when Seth noses his way down Stefon’s neck. “It wouldn’t have lasted. I would’ve ridden him like a stallion for two weeks and then gotten bored of his ethereal white hair and husky news anchor voice.”

“Stefon, I think you meant those as insults but they sounded more like compliments.”

“ _Awwww_ , no Seth Meyers. The only stallion in my future is the one in the back of this limo. Unless you want to talk about opening up our relationship for occasional fooling around with other people; then I’m all ears.”

“I’d like you for myself for a while, if that’s okay,” Seth says. “I need to get used to saying, ‘this is my husband’ before I add ‘and his side piece’ to my vocabulary.”

“How about, ‘this is my husband and the guy who fucks my husband twice a month while I jerk off to it?’ Is that in your vocabulary?”

“Stefon-”

“I’m kidding,” Stefon says, kissing Seth’s nose. “Besides, there are lots of things you can get up to in a long-term, monogamous relationship that I’ve never tried before. What do you know about BDSM as a lifestyle choice?”

“Uhh, not a lot...”

“Hmmmm, well, you’ll pick it up quick, you’re a fast learner. Now take off your belt, we have a privacy screen between us and the driver and at least another twenty minutes in this car. You should never give up an opportunity to have sex in the back of a limo,” Stefon says instructively.

Seth does as he asks. After all, Stefon seems like he has plenty more to teach him, and Seth is more than willing to learn.

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal shout out to Bill Hader, John Mulaney and Seth Meyers for giving us a canonical queer ship with a happily ever after. No matter how silly or comedic the concept of the sketch, it was important to see that representation, as canonical queer relationships with happy endings are still an anomaly in mainstream media today.
> 
> Find me on tumblr and twitter @nighthawkms!


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